p  ■  ■ 


liOB 


THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL 
PHENOMENA  OF  CHEISTIANITY 


BY 


GEORGE   BARTON   CUTTEN, 

Author  of  "  The  Psychology  of  Alcoholism  " 


NEW  YORK 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S   SONS 

1908 


Copyright,  igo8,  by 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


Published  November,  1908 


THE  MEMBERS  OF  THE  CHURCHES  WHICH  I  HAVE  HAD  THE  HONOR  TO  SERVE 
AS  PASTOR  (ALL,  WITH  THE  EXCEPTION  OF  THE  LAST  TWO,  IN  CONNECTION 
WITH  COLLEGE  AND  UNIVERSITY  WORK),  WHO  HAVE  TAUGHT  ME  MANY  LESSONS 
OF    RIGHTEOUSNESS   AND    TRUTH,   THIS    BOOK    IS    AFFECTIONATELY    DEDICATED 


The  Oak  Baptist  Church,  River  John,  Nova  Scotia 

The  Baptist  Church,  New  Annan,  Nova  Scotia 
June  i,  1894 -October  1,  1894 

The  Brooklyn  Baptist  Church,  Lockhartville,  Nova  Scotia 
June  1,  1895 -June  1,  1896 

The  Union  Baptist  Church,  Montowese,  Connecticut 
January  1,  1897 -June  20,  1899 

The  Howard  Avenue  Baptist  Church,  New  Haven,  Connecticut 
June  20,  1899 -April  1,  1904 

The  First  Baptist  Church,  Corning,  New  York 
April  i,  1904 -October  15,  1907 

The  First  Baptist  Church,  Columbus,  Ohio 
October  15,  1907 


PREFACE 

The  attempt  to  approach  religion  from  the  standpoint  of 
psychology  is  a  matter  of  comparatively  recent  endeavor. 
The  serious  consideration  of  this  subject  has  been  confined 
to  the  last  twenty-five  years,  and  America  has  taken  a  leading 
part  in  the  investigations;  England,  France,  and  Germany 
have  all  made  contributions.  The  titles  of  some  of  the  earlier 
volumes  published  have  been  far  too  comprehensive,  but  it 
is  only  natural  that  a  part  should  be  conceived  as  the  whole  in 
the  days  when  a  science  is  young  and  undeveloped. 

Minute  investigations  concerning  some  phases  of  the  sub- 
ject have  been  made  and  much  of  real  value  has  been  con- 
tributed in  this  way,  but  it  seemed  that  some  one  should 
essay  a  summation  of  the  conclusions  of  these  detailed  studies, 
with  other  material,  so  that  there  might  be  laid  before  the 
public  an  outline  of  the  psychological  phenomena  of  Chris- 
tianity, covering  as  nearly  as  possible  the  whole  field.  This 
is  the  object  of  the  present  volume. 

With  the  exception  of  a  few  examples  used  for  comparison 
or  illustration,  only  the  phenomena  of  Christianity  are  pre- 
sented, not  because  other  religions  could  not  furnish  instruc- 
tive and  interesting  material,  but  because  every  religion 
could  provide  so  much  that  a  mere  outline,  as  this  is,  would 
necessitate  a  volume  of  equal  size,  and  so  it  would  become  too 
extensive  and  diversified  for  our  present  purpose. 

It  will  be  noticed  that  the  whole  range  of  phenomena  of 
Christianity  has  been  included,  abnormal  and  normal,  patho- 
logical and  healthful.  In  general,  the  first  half  is  taken  up 
with  the  abnormal  and  the  latter  half  with  the  normal. 


viii  PREFACE 

I  have  tried  to  keep  in  mind,  in  my  writing,  the  general 
reader  as  well  as  the  psychological  and  theological  student, 
and  hope  that  I  have  so  far  succeeded  that  both  classes  may 
find  some  profit  in  the  reading.  It  has  been  my  purpose  to 
eschew  philosophy  and  theology,  and  also  to  a  great  extent 
psychological  theory,  but  two  or  three  theories  which  seem 
to  me  fundamental  have  been  made  more  or  less  prominent. 

It  is  my  hope  to  make  this  the  basis  of  another  study  in 
which  the  theory  shall  have  the  more  prominent  part. 

George  Barton  Cutten. 

Columbus,  Ohio, 

July  i,  1908. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  I 
Through  the  Human  Mould 3 

The  Moulder,  the  Metal,  and  the  Mould— Different  forms  of 
the  mould  explain  variety  of  product — Laws  of  moulds — Sci- 
ence and  Religion — Religion  a  psychological  study — Com- 
plex character  of  psychological  study — Need  of  psychological 
study  by  a  soul  physician — Medical  versus  theological 
schools — The  theological  seminary  curriculum — Objections 
to  a  psychological  study  of  religion — Data  difficult  to  obtain 
— Individuality 

CHAPTER  II 
The  Religious  Faculty h 

Old  idea — Later  psychology — Religion  for  the  whole  man — 
Richness  of  religious  experience — Symmetrical  functioning 
of  the  whole  mind  needed — The  subconsciousness — Its 
functions — The  ally  of  consciousness — Genius — Sleep- 
Communication  with  the  subconsciousness — Suggestibility 
— Over-emphasis  and  over-valuation  of  some  mental  activi- 
ties— Why  is  man  religious? 

* 

CHAPTER  III 
Mysticism 20 

Extreme  form  a  matter  of  temperament — Common  to  all  per- 
sons— Prayer — Ecstasy — Definition — Value— Christian  and 
non-Christian  mystics*— Speculative  mysticism — Pantheism 
— Self-surrender — Unity — Oneness  with  God — Mystical 
certainty— Epistemological  factor— Value  of  mysticism — 
Stages  in  the  mystical  experience — Means  for  acquiring  ex- 
treme states — Early  versus  later  mystics — Love— Symbolic 
interpretations — Mystics  in  churches  to-day — Subconscious- 
ness 


x  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  IV 
Ecstasy 37 

A  common  phenomenon — Characteristics— Contagion — Res- 
ignation— Insensibility  to  pain — Non-religious  ecstasy — 
Causes  of  ecstasy — Oriental  means  of  attaining  ecstasy — 
Primitive  methods — A  modern  case — Forms  of  ecstasy — 
Relation  of  ecstasy  to  similar  states — Analysis  of  ecstasy — 
Subconsciousness — Value  of  ecstasy 

CHAPTER  V 
Glossolalia 49 

Ambiguity  concerning  the  character  of  glossolalia — Pentecost 
and  other  New  Testament  references — Paul's  valuation  of 
the  gift — The  modern  view — The  Catholic  Apostolic 
Church — Mormons — Demoniacal  possession — Another  ex- 
planation— Exalted  memory — As  a  contemporary  mania — 
Apostolic  Faith  movement — Sleeping  preachers — Rachel 
Baker 

CHAPTER  VI 
Visions 60 

Visions  of  the  Bible — Importance  in  the  Christian  Church — 
St.  Teresa  on  visions — Value  to  some  individuals — Causes  of 
visions  among  the  hermits — Contents  of  visions  among  dif- 
ferent people — Vision  of  the  Virgin  at  Dordogne — Definition 
— Factors  which  decide  the  character  of  visions — How  val- 
ued by  the  different  ages — Elements  of  visions — Visions 
apart  from  ecstasy 

CHAPTER  VII 
Dreams 71 

Value  assigned  to  dreams  among  primitive  people — Veridical 
and  prophetic  dreams — Subconscious  element  in  dreams — 
Immediate  stimuli  of  dreams — Two  kinds  corresponding  to 
the  distinction  between  hallucinations  and  illusions — Mem- 
ory in  dreams — Work  done  in  dreams — Example  of  Cole- 
ridge^— Supernormal  revelation  psychologically  possible — 
New  Testament  and  other  dreams  with  religious  significance 
— Dreams  during  religious  awakening 

CHAPTER  VIII 
Stigmatization 78 

Marks  among  the  ancients— New  Testament  idea — Stigma- 
tization— St.  Francis  of  Assisi — St.  Catherine  of  Sienna — 


CONTENTS  xi 

PAGE 

Dominicans  and  Franciscans — Explanation — Experiments 
— Louis  V. — A  young  marine  suggestively  stigmatized — 
Other  similar  cases — Power  of  the  mind  over  the  body — 
Four  divisions  of  stigmatics — Three  possible  explanations 
— Louise  Lateau — Professional  examination  of  her  case — 
Mrs.  Stuckenborg — Young  converts 


CHAPTER  IX 
Witchcraft 89 

Demoniacal  possession  and  witchcraft — Witchcraft  a  Chris- 
tian doctrine — Primitive  beliefs— Characteristics  of  witches — 
Jane  Brooks — Amy  Duny  and  Rose  Cullender — Susannah 
Martin — Mrs.  Hicks — The  evidence  considered — Four 
kinds — Fraud — Partisanship  in  Salem — The  crime  not 
witchcraft  but  the  denial  of  the  doctrine — Cotton  Mather 
misrepresented — Unreliable  evidence — Experts — Torture — 
Suicide — The  witch  finder  general — Psychological  explana- 
tion— Looking  for  causes — Evidence  by  the  accused — 
Witch  spots — Decline  in  the  belief — Final  cases 

CHAPTER  X 
Demoniacal  Possession 104 

Belief  among  Christians  to-day — Jesus'  relation  to  demonism 
— Different  theories — Belief  among  primitive  people — New 
Testament  use  of  the  term — Exorcism — Epidemic  form  of 
demonism — Different  cases— Father  Surin — Wesley — Final 
cases — A  case  in  Ceylon — China — Case  of  Kwo — Explana- 
tion— Double  Personality — Heightened  memory — Case  of 
Achille — Age,  sex  and  characteristics  of  demoniacs — Con- 
clusion 

CHAPTER  XI 

MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM Il8 

Non-Christian  ascetics — Psychological  distinction  between 
monk  and  churchman — Stages  of  development  and  charac- 
teristics— Results — Self-denial — Value — Negative  and  posi- 
tive attitude — Jesus'  asceticism — Negative  side  primary — 
The  body  evil — Humility — Confession — Obedience — Pov- 
erty— Self-denial  and  will  power — Fasting — Eliminated 
from  modern  Protestantism — Value  has  changed — Fast- 
ing girls — Examples — Ann  Moore — Psychological  value — 
Visions — Concomitant  virtues  and  vices — Rebellion  against 
fasting — Modern  investigations — Solitude— Causes  and 
types — Individual  piety — Famous  solitary  saints — Value — 
World  still  necessary — Injurious  aspects — Torture — Causes 


xii  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

— Wrong  conception  of  God — Endeavor  to  cure  sensuality 
— Different  views — Mental  torture — Value — Henry  Suso — 
Odor  of  sanctity — Baths — Transfiguration — Women — 
Chronological  table 

CHAPTER  XII 
Religious  Epidemics 146 

Social  groups — Waves  of  movements — Epidemics  impossible 
in  early  Christianity — Monasticism — Beginnings — Statis- 
tics— Exaggeration — Decline — Preparation  for  later  epi- 
demics— Pilgrimages — Causes — Extent  —  Crusades — Peter 
the  Hermit — Urban  II — Council  of  Clermont — Mobs  led  by 
Walter,  Peter,  Gottschalk,  Bolkar,  and  Enricon — Children's 
crusades — The  German  army — The  French  army — Extent 
of  the  movement — Flagellants — Dancing  mania — Charac- 
teristics and  classes — St.  John's  dance — St.  Vitus'  dance — 
Tarantism — Witchcraft — Statistics — Reasons  for  decline  of 
religious  epidemics — Chronological  table 

CHAPTER  XIII 
Contagious  Phenomena 163 

Psychology  of  the  crowd — Influence  of  lack  of  inhibitory  con- 
trol— Power  of  imitation — Value  of  habit  of  control — Prin- 
ciples laid  down  by  Le  Bon — Suggestibility — Leader  of  a 
crowd — Collective  hallucinations — Examples — Convulsion  - 
aries — McDonaldites — Jewish  Messiahs — Negroes — Influ- 
ence of  former  beliefs — The  negro  preacher — Phenomena  of 
negro  meetings — Example 

CHAPTER  XIV 
Revivals 174 

Mixture  of  good  and  evil — Revivalists  cling  to  the  faults — 
Different  kinds  of  revivals — Early  revivals — New  England 
prior  to  1734 — Edwards — The  Great  Awakening — The 
Wesleyan  revival— The  Kentucky  revival — Character  of  the 
preaching — Crowds — Characteristics  of  the  phenomena — 
Revival  of  1832 — Nettleton  and  Finney — Revival  of  1857— 
Revival  of  1875— The  Welsh  revival — Revival  in  India  in 
1906 — Chronological  table — Physical  manifestations — Re- 
vival methods — Emotionalism  in  revivals — Dangerous  re- 
sults— Character  of  revivalists — A  modern  example — The 
revival  a  power — Prognostication — Decline — The  new  re- 
vival— Value — Do  revivals  do  any  good  ? 


CONTENTS  xiii 

CHAPTER  XV 
Faith  Cure 196 

Primitive  therapeutics — Egypt — y£sculapius — Healing  a  slave 
to  religion — Influence  of  saints  and  images — Relics — Ab- 
surdity unnoticed— Medicine  sinful — Division  into  religious 
and  mental  healing — The  king's  touch — A  modern  example 
— Paracelsus'  shrewd  words — Relics  not  necessarily  authen- 
tic— Three  classes  of  religious  healing — Christian  shrines — 
Lourdes  and  St.  Anne  de  Beaupre — Healers— Greatrakes — 
Gassner — Healing  power — Braid — 111  repute  of  hypnotism 
— Psychological  explanation — Influence  of  mind  over  body 
— Pain — Subconsciousness — D  ivine  power — Expectancy — 
Patent  Medicines — Placebo — General  law 


CHAPTER  XVI 
Christian  Science 214 

Origin — Attraction — Philosophical  and  Practical — Thera- 
peutics— Lack  of  diagnosis — Curable  cases — Method — Sin 
and  disease — Metaphysical  and  faith  cures — Functional  dis- 
eases alone  to  be  treated — "Unity" — Testimonials — Sug- 
gestion through  literature — Value 

CHAPTER  XVII 
The  Miracles 223 

Problem  stated — Statistics — Character  of  miracles — Effect  of 
explanation — Proof  of  historicity — Miracles  duplicated — 
Unique  miracles— Classes  versus  individual  cases — Neces- 
sary elements  in  suggestive  therapeutics — Suggestion — Jesus' 
and  Peter's  methods — Repeated  suggestion — Faith — Three 
examples — Conclusions 

CHAPTER  XVIII 
Conversion 232 

Incomplete  treatment — Data  deficient — Term  "conversion" 
restricted — The  Pauline  type — Conversion  a  normal  experi- 
ence— A  part  of  a  process — Other  forms  of  conversion — 
Types — Definitions — Unity — Factors — Sense  of  sin — Jon- 
athan Edwards — Hall — Leuba — The  divided  self — Doubt 
— Self-surrender — Physiological  explanation — Psychologi- 
cal explanation — The  will— Unification — Faith — Results  of 
process — Feeling  of  newness — Joy,  confidence  and  opti- 


xiv  CONTENTS 

mism — New  truths — Altruism — Awakening  of  self — Hope- 
fulness— Annulling  of  lower  temptations — Reasons — Desire 
for  reform — Associations  changed — Provides  an  emotional 
substitute — Will — Temperamental  hindrances — Permanence 
— Subconsciousness — Temperamental  qualifications — Phot- 
isms — Hypnotism  and  conversion — Objections — Subconscious 
elements  essential — Divine  element — Works  subconsciously 
— Admissible 


CHAPTER  XIX 
Age 262 

Types  of  religion  according  to  age— Horrible  examples  of  the 
past — Case  of  Marion  Lyle  Hurd — Jonathan  Edwards'  doc- 
trine—A French  priest— Hymns  of  fifty  years  ago — Mod- 
ern examples — Sources  of  the  fallacy — Total  depravity — 
Parental  ignorance — Children  treated  as  children — Divi- 
sions of  life— Divisions  of  childhood — Characteristics  of  in- 
fancy— Credulity  and  concreteness — Children's  ideas  of 
God — From  six  to  nine — From  nine  to  twelve — General  de- 
ductions regarding  childhood — Religion  fitted  to  the  form 
of  development — Comparison  regarding  the  race  and  the 
B ible — Adolescence — Divisions — Second  birth  —  Charac- 
teristics— Conversion  out  of  time — Religion  and  adolescence 
— Subconscious  forces — Criticism  by  adolescent — Doubt — 
Independence — Need  of  doubt — Criticism  of  self — Of  life 
work — Christianity  an  adolescent  religion — Mature  religion 
— Different  experiences 

CHAPTER  XX 
Sex 284 

Psychological  distinction  between  sexes — Manifested  in  re- 
ligion— Characteristics  of  sex — Masculine  and  feminine  psy- 
chology— Women  intellectually  inferior — Women  volition- 
ally  inferior — Men  emotionally  inferior — Suggestibility — 
Effects  on  religion — On  conversion  phenomena — Women 
morally  superior — Sexual  results  of  leadership — Reasons  for 
sexual  differences — Education  and  development— Organic 
causes — Gradual  change — Greek  life  masculine — Christian- 
ity feminine — Was  Jesus  effeminate? — The  [manliness  of 
Christ — Will — Intellect — Emotions — Mixture  of  masculine 
and  feminine  in  Christianity — Post-reformation  period — 
Catholicism  and  Protestantism  contrasted — Causes  of  mod- 
ern Christian  effeminacy — Early  training— Revivals — Wor- 
ship of  luxury 


CONTENTS  xv 

CHAPTER  XXI 
Intellect 3°2 

Intellectual  definitions  of  religion — Intellectual  balance — Mys- 
tics disparage  reason— Connection  between  intellectuality  and 
religion — Importance  of  reason — Reason  a  source — Other 
contributions — Reformers — Warfare  of  science  and  religion 
— Metaphysics — Analysis  of  religious  belief — Primitive  cre- 
dulity— Intellectual  belief — Emotional  belief — Criticism — 
Definition  of  reason — Nature  of  belief  determined  by  its  ob- 
ject—Doubt— A  factor  of  adolescence — This  an  age  of  in- 
quiry— Cases  of  doubt  classified — Faith — Chronological  po- 
sition— Faith-state  and  faith-belief — Faith  vital — Compre- 
hensive— Faith  rational — Its  convictions 

CHAPTER  XXII 
Knowledge 318 

Distinction  between  knowledge,  belief,  and  faith — Philosophy 
involved  in  knowledge — Psychology  not  investigating  reality 
— All  knowledge  the  same  kind — Degrees  of  knowledge — 
Epistemological  problems  in  religion — Growth  of  religious 
knowledge— Knowledge  uses  all  departments  of  the  mind — 
Feeling  now  prominent  in  knowledge — The  intellect — Inter- 
pretation— Solipsism  and  agnosticism — The  feelings — Feel- 
ing of  certainty — Logical  feelings — The  mystics— Temper- 
amental considerations — The  will— The  practical  test — 
Religious  knowledge  possible  and  valuable. 

CHAPTER  XXIII 
Imagination 332 

Imagination  under-valued — Scientific  use — Some  imaginative 
qualities  in  use  in  all  departments  of  life — Imagination  and 
fancy — Harmony  with  other  mental  factors — Subconscious- 
ness— The  mystics — Edwards  on  imagination — Whitefield's 
controversy — Value — Bushnell  on  imagination — Reason 
and  imagination — Creating  ideals — Use  in  religion 

CHAPTER  XXIV 
Inspiration 342 

Inspiration  common  to  all  religions — Founders  of  religions 
special  mediums  of  revelation — Abnormal  phenomena  con- 
nected with  revelation — Development  of  prophetism — Value 
of  prophets  —  Subconscious  processes — Individuality — 
Method  of  inspiration — The  mouthpiece  of  the  Infinite — 


xvi  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Examples — Inspiration  verbal  or  dynamic — Degrees  and 
modes  of  inspiration — Foretelling — Inspiration  suggestive 
rather  than  dictatorial  — Subconscious  factor — Genius — An 
external  power — Inspiration  and  abnormality — Conscious 
as  well  as  subconscious  factors  used — Difference  in  the  kinds 
of  inspiration — All  life  inspired 

CHAPTER  XXV 

WlLL 358 

Return  to  belief  in  importance  of  will — True  in  religion — 
Heresy  trials — Practical  tests — Revival  methods — Self-sur- 
render— Incorrect  translations — Repentance — Conversion 
— Jesus'  will — Religious  effect  on  a  shattered  will — Mystical 
depreciation  of  will — R  iigion  an  emotional  outlet — Beliefs 
— Activity — Factors  of  will— End — Deliberation — Control 
— Choice — Effort — Freedom  of  will — Moral  freedom 


CHAPTER  XXVI 
Emotions 


37o 


Emphasis  and  depreciation  of  emotions  both  found  to-day — 
Intellectual  and  conative  factors  in  emotion — Emotions 
alone  not  the  source  of  religion — Difficulty  in  studying  emo- 
tions— Revival  and  solitary  type  of  emotionalism — Religion 
the  cure  as  well  as  the  inciter  of  emotionalism — Emotions 
not  uniform  in  experience — Emotionalism  declines  as 
thought  advances — Fear — Dark  ages — Modern  times — 
Punishment — Decline  of  fear — Awe  and  the  sublime — Not 
used  by  Protestants — Esthetic  emotions — Art — Love — 
Mysticism — Conative  factor  in  love — Joy — Joy  of  sadness — 
Examples — Edwards  and  Wellwood — Humility 

CHAPTER  XXVII 
Worship 387 

Emotional — Early  Christian  worship  spontaneous — It  became 
formal — Ambiguity — Temperamental  considerations — Ab- 
stractions difficult — Intolerant — Danger  of  replacing  Deity 
by  symbols — Form  versus  real  religious  life — Protestantism 
anti-Roman — Ceremonial  the  seed  and  fruit  of  doctrine — 
Mere  externals — Feminine  and  masculine  elements — Val- 
uable factor  of  worship— Fear  versus  love — Effects — Sun- 
day— Origin — Rest— Joy — Present  lack  of  Sunday  observ- 
ance—  Cure — Music  —  Protestant  hymnology  —  Incite  to 
emotion  rather  than  to  action — The  same  is  true  of  prayer 
meeting  and  revival  songs. 


CONTENTS  xvii 

CHAPTER  XXVIII 
Prayer 402 

Prayer  universal — Why  do  we  pray — Filial  attitude — Justifi- 
cation intrinsic — Restrictions  of  peace  and  media — The  Lord's 
prayer — Causes  for  decline  of  prayer — Petitional  prayer — 
The  weather — Influence  of  prayer — Results  of  prayer — 
Subjective  value — Reflex  effect — Relation  to  the  subcon- 
sciousness— Therapeutic  value  of  prayer — Direct  answers 
in  sickness — Real  influence  of  prayer — God  a  companion 
rather  than  a  giver — Influence  of  the  prayers  of  others — 
George  Miiller — Personal  and  material  answers 

CHAPTER  XXIX 
Sexuality 419 

Relation  between  sexuality  and  religion — Love  and  religion — 
Classes  of  evidence — Christianity  and  sexuality — Irregu- 
larities in  primitive  Christianity — Some  early  Protestants — 
Argument  from  pathology — Psychological  argument — Two 
phases — Connection  between  human  and  divine  love — Ob- 
jection of  Prof.  Ladd — Connection  between  sexual  and  re- 
ligious life  in  adolescence— Over  emphasis — Hymnology — 
Objection  of  Prof.  James — Sexual  abnormality  in  religious 
devotees — Excess — Influence  of  Revivals — Revival  of  1832 
and  its  results — Justification  of  licentiousness — Spiritual 
marriage — Marriage  between  God  and  the  soul — Gradations 
of  mystical  experiences — Suso — Gertrude — Marie  de  1' Incar- 
nation— Carnal  form  of  spiritual  marriage — Justification — 
Perfection — Affinities — Biblical  warrant — Three  contem- 
poraneous movements — Progress  of  the  movements — Amer- 
ica— Mormonism — Battle-Axe  letter — Davis  and  Spiritual- 
ism— Continence — Castration — Vows — Biblical  warrant — 
Women  considered  evil — Dispute  between  Northern  and 
Southern  Europe — Praiseworthy  self-denial— Influence  upon 
marriage — Violence  to  human  nature — Remedy  for  clerical 
licentiousness — Temperamental  elements  in  choosing  priest- 
hood— Influence  of  confession — Moral  result — Cruelty — 
Morbid  effects  of  continence 

CHAPTER  XXX 
Denominationalism 456 

Necessity  of  denominationalism — Temperamental  considera- 
tions— Origin  of  sects — Symptom  of  vigor  of  religion — Orig- 
inality and  spontaneity — Temperamental  differences  due  to 
heredity  and  environment — Variation — Many  have  not 
found  denominational  affinity — Roman  Catholics  and  Prot- 


xviii  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

estants — Authority  and  emphasis — Men  cannot  get  most 
out  of  worship  until  they  find  their  proper  groups — All  de- 
nominations emphasize  some  important  tenet — Some  have 
had  their  distinctive  tenets  universally  accepted 

CHAPTER  XXXI 
Immortality       465 

Psychology  and  immortality — Destructive — No  mind  without 
brain — Explanation — Spiritual  body — Prof.  James'  solution 
— Spiritism  —  Prej udice  against — Science  —  Supersensible 
foundations — Evidence  scanty — Telepathy — Its  operation 
— Mr.  Myers — Opinions  concerning  spiritism — Kind  of  evi- 
dence necessary — The  investigators — Telepathy  and  spirit- 
ism— Explanation  of  character  of  evidence  already  obtained 

CHAPTER  XXXII 
Preaching 477 

Importance  of  preaching — Is  it  declining? — The  personality 
of  the  preacher — Interest  and  attention — Voluntary  and 
spontaneous  attention  —  Personality — Earnestness  —  New 
and  old  subjects — Suggestive  preaching — Fluctuation  of 
attention — Variety — Rhythm — Uniformity  of — Factors  of 
— The  crowd — Conditions  favorable  for  changing  audiences 
into  crowds — Limitation  of  voluntary  movements — The 
leader — Fitting  the  sermon  to  the  crowd — Affirmation — 
Reaction — Mental  imagery — Arousing  emotion — Expres- 
sion of  emotion — Laws  of — Attraction  of 

Index  of  Names 489 

Index  of  Subjects 495 


THE    PSYCHOLOGICAL    PHENOMENA 
OF    CHRISTIANITY 


THE 

PSYCHOLOGICAL    PHENOMENA 

OF    CHRISTIANITY 

CHAPTER  I 

THROUGH  THE  HUMAN  MOULD 

"What  a  piece  of  work  is  man!  how  noble  in  reason!  how  infinite 
in  faculty!  in  form  and  moving  how  express  and  admirable!  in  action 
how  like  an  angel!  in  apprehension  how  like  a  God!" — Shakespeare. 

Have  you  ever  watched  the  iron  moulder  or  the  worker  in 
bronze?  The  hour  for  casting  has  arrived;  the  glowing, 
molten  mass  is  carried  in  large  vessels  by  clanging,  creaking 
cranes  to  the  huge  moulds  which  seem  to  cover  the  floor;  or 
strong-armed  men  bear  hand-ladles,  filled  to  the  brim  with 
liquid  metal  from  the  same  furnace,  and  pour  it  into  lesser 
moulds  which  stand  ready  to  receive  it.  Presently  the  bands 
are  loosened,  the  boxes  are  removed,  and  behold  the  product ! 
The  same  moulder,  the  same  charge,  but  how  dissimilar  the 
results !    It  is  the  mould  which  is  responsible  for  the  difference. 

For  thousands  of  years  men  have  tried  to  fathom  the  pro- 
found mysteries  of  religion  by  speculating  concerning  the 
Moulder  and  the  metal,  but  not  until  the  eighteenth  century 
did  they  think  of  examining  the  mould.  This  seems  the  more 
incomprehensible  when  we  consider  that  the  mould — the 
human  mind — was  the  factor  which  was  the  most  easily 
accessible  for  definite  study  and  exact  knowledge.  It  appears 
to  be  the  natural  starting-place  instead  of  the  final  subject  in 
the  examination.     But  it  is  ever  thus — distance  lends  en- 

3 


4  THROUGH  THE  HUMAN  MOULD 

chantment,  and  the  comparatively  unattainable  is  always 
attractive.  The  Holyoke  resident  rushes  across  sea  and  land 
to  obtain  the  view  from  the  Swiss  Alps,  but  has  never  ascended 
Mt.  Tom;  we  go  farther  to  fare  worse. 

When  we  consider  the  mould,  several  things  become  ap- 
parent. We  think  of  God,  the  Moulder,  as  the  Father  of 
Lights,  with  whom  is  no  variableness;  we  consider  His  reve- 
lation and  His  grace  as  constant  toward  all  men;  why,  then, 
the  difference  in  religious  experience?  Why  the  primitive 
nature  worship  and  the  exalted  Christianity  in  the  same 
world?  Why  the  childish  credulity,  the  adolescent  doubt, 
and  the  mature,  reasonable  faith  in  the  same  person?  Why 
the  different  forms  of  Christianity  as  exhibited  by  the  several 
denominations?  It  depends  on  the  mould.  We  cannot 
understand  how  the  mystic  and  the  ecstatic  can  be  embracing 
the  same  religion  as  the  rationalist,  if  we  consider  only  the 
Moulder  and  the  metal,  but  the  explanation  is  plain  when  we 
examine  the  capacity  and  form  of  the  mould.  With  an  exact 
knowledge  of  the  minds  of  men  we  can  prognosticate  what 
form  of  expression  the  religious  life  will  take  in  a  particular 
case,  for  this  is  the  one  variable  quantity.  It  is  this  that  is 
meant  when  it  is  said  that  man  is  the  maker  of  his  religion. 
It  might  be  still  more  definitely  said  that  each  man  is  the 
maker  of  his  own  religion,  i.  e.,  that  his  religion  is  moulded 
according  to  the  characteristics  of  his  soul. 

We  must  not  think,  however,  because  moulds  are  different 
that  they  do  not  conform  to  any  laws.  There  are  laws  of 
moulds  as  there  are  laws  of  metals.  It  is  because  of  the 
science  of  psychology  and  the  well  known  laws  of  mental 
action  that  we  can  study  religion  from  the  human  standpoint. 
True,  religion  has  been  tangled  with  all  forms  of  abnormal, 
and  even  insane,  mental  vagaries,  yet  we  recognize  laws  of 
abnormality  as  we  do  of  normal  processes,  and  we  may  sepa- 
rate the  dross  from  the  metal. 


THROUGH  THE  HUMAN  MOULD      5 

Among  the  first  to  direct  attention  to  the  psychological 
study  of  religion  was  Schleiermacher.  He  was  interested  in 
the  emotional  nature  of  religion  and  made  some  shrewd 
observations  concerning  this  phase  of  the  subject.  But  this 
was  rather  the  result  of  the  Zeitgeist  than  an  original  and 
novel  innovation  on  his  part,  for  with  the  genesis  of  scientific 
development  it  was  inevitable  that  a  scientific  study  of  re- 
ligion should  occur.  There  is  no  other  domain  of  human 
experience  so  universal  and  profound  as  religion,  and  the  all- 
pervading  scientific  spirit  must  reach  it.  Although  about  a 
century  has  elapsed  since  that  time,  comparatively  little  has 
been  accomplished,  for  our  ways  change  slowly  and  our 
prejudices  die  hard.  Some  religious  leaders  have  always 
feared  science — feared  that  the  development  of  science 
would  result  in  the  disintegration  of  religion.  This  cannot 
be.  They  are  both  manifestations  of  the  same  God,  and 
instead  of  being  antagonistic  they  are  friendly  and  helpful. 
True,  science  may  destroy  theory  and  dogma,  but  such  of 
these  as  it  annihilates  are  best  eliminated  from  our  systems. 
Facts  are  solid  rock  on  which  we  can  build,  or  the  same  solid 
rock  will  prove  an  impregnable  barrier  against  which  we  shall 
hurl  our  opposition  in  vain. 

The  study  of  religion  is  always  essentially  psychological. 
Whatever  else  can  be  predicated  of  religion,  we  must  admit 
that  it  consists  of  a  great  variety  of  mental  experiences,  and 
of  mental  experiences  only.  We  must  take  for  granted  that 
these  mental  states  may  be  examined,  analyzed,  and  de- 
scribed as  other  mental  states  may  be,  and  this  without  refer- 
ence to  dogmatic  theology.  Theology  has,  in  the  past,  en- 
deavored to  prove  what  mental  states  the  religious  person 
must  have;  psychology  now  assumes  the  task  of  observing 
what  these  states  actually  are. 

The  facts  in  the  religious  life — the  psychological  data — 
form  a  foundation  on  which  theology  must  build,  for  it  is  only 


6  THROUGH  THE  HUMAN  MOULD 

as  we  examine  the  products  of  the  moulds,  as  variable  as  they 
may  be,  that  we  can  hope  to  understand  the  nature  of  the 
material  or  the  design  of  the  Moulder.  The  modern  psycho- 
logical and  pedagogical  method  is  from  the  known  to  the  un- 
known, i.  e.,  in  this  case  from  man  to  God.  the  ancient  theo- 
logical method  was  from  the  unknown  to  the  known.  By 
resting  our  theories  upon  the  facts  we  obtain  exactness,  and 
thereby  rid  theology  of  the  superstition  with  which  it  has 
abounded.  Chance,  which  formerly  seemed  to  play  an  im- 
portant role  in  religion,  is  now  only  useful  as  a  mathematical 
fiction. 

In  applying  the  methods  of  science  to  religion  there  may 
be  needed  a  word  of  warning.  The  phenomena  of  material 
science  are  comparatively  simple  and  its  laws  proportion- 
ately easy  to  discover.  When,  however,  these  same  methods 
are  applied  to  mental  phenomena,  which  are  vastly  more 
complex  and  the  laws  of  which  are  more  obscure  and  elusive, 
there  is  great  need  of  severely  testing  every  hypothesis  and 
theory  by  the  facts  and  sacrificing  any  which  do  not  stand  the 
test.  If  we  find  this  necessary  in  dealing  with  psychology, 
ethics,  sociology,  and  history,  it  is  still  more  important  when 
we  are  dealing  with  religion,  which  involves  questions,  not 
only  of  man's  whole  complex  nature,  but  of  his  still  more 
complex  and  mysterious  dealings  with  God. 

The  psychological  standpoint  is  not  only  important  but  in- 
dispensable for  the  religious  worker,  whether  preacher  or 
teacher.  No  amount  of  goodness  or  devotion  can  take  its 
place.  To  the  medical  man,  not  therapeutics,  but  diagnosis, 
is  the  chief  matter  of  concern  to-day.  If  he  knows  definitely 
what  is  the  trouble  with  the  patient  there  is  some  hope  of 
cure.  The  same  thing  is  even  more  true  with  those  who  are 
concerned  in  "the  cure  of  souls."  The  difference  between 
the  physician  and  the  minister  is  this:  the  medical  schools  are 
doing  all  they  can  to  instruct  their  pupils  in  this  important 


THROUGH  THE  HUMAN  MOULD  7 

branch  of  knowledge,  the  theological  seminaries  compara- 
tively nothing.  Years  ago  the  witch  doctor  and  the  medicine 
man  had  one  prescription  for  every  disease,  and  to-day  the 
nostrum  vender  and  the  proprietary  medicine  men  are  get- 
ting wealthy  by  the  same  means.  But  we  recognize  this  as 
neither  scientific  nor  conforming  to  ordinary  common  sense. 
Does  the  seminary  course  lead  to  similar  training  ? 

Suppose  a  school  of  medicine  to  start  with  a  curriculum 
containing  adequate  courses  in  chemistry  and  the  com- 
pounding of  drugs  in  the  most  elaborate  way,  the  best  meth- 
ods of  sugar-coating  pills  and  administering  doses,  the  history 
of  medicine  from  iEsculapius  to  the  present  time,  a  descrip- 
tion of  superficial  pathology,  analytical  study  of  the  lectures 
of  famous  and  successful  physicians,  gynaecology,  and  similar 
courses,  but  absolutely  nothing  on  gross  anatomy,  histology, 
or  physiology,  and  consequently  little  or  no  surgery,  how 
would  such  an  abbreviated  and  deformed  course  be  received 
by  competent  medical  men  or  even  by  the  average  public? 
To  ask  the  question  is  to  answer  it.  The  query  would  be, 
"Of  what  use  is  the  part  which  you  do  get  if  you  leave  out 
the  other  ?  How  will  you  use  your  drugs  if  you  know  nothing 
of  the  different  organs  of  the  body  and  their  functions?" 
These  would  be  sensible  and  cogent  questions.  I  do  not 
criticise  what  is  taught — far  from  it;  these  things  ought  ye  to 
teach,  but  ye  should  not  leave  untaught  the  other  things. 

What  docs  the  ordinary  seminary  graduate  know  of  the 
histology,  anatomy,  physiology,  or  surgery  of  the  soul? 
Absolutely  nothing.  He  must  stumble  along  through  years 
of  trying  experience  and  look  back  over  countless  mistakes 
before  he  understands  these  things  even  in  a  general  way. 
What  does  the  ordinary  graduate  understand  about  doubt? 
It  is  all  classed  together,  whether  in  adolescents  or  in  hard- 
ened sinners,  and  one  dose  is  applied.  What  does  the  gradu- 
ate know  about  sexuality,  so  closely  allied  with  certain  forms 


8  THROUGH  THE  HUMAN  MOULD 

of  religious  manifestations  ?  What  about  ecstasy  in  its  vari- 
ous forms,  the  numerous  methods  of  faith  cure  thrust  upon 
an  illiterate  but  credulous  people,  or  the  significance  or  insig- 
nificance of  visions  and  dreams  ? 

The  seminary  student  is  taught  ancient  languages,  which 
are  excellent,  but  I  am  afraid  a  great  many  Hebrew  Bibles 
need  dusting.  He  is  now  taught  sociology — the  history  and 
idiosyncrasies  of  races  and  crowds — but  he  goes  out  and 
meets  but  one  race,  and  never  sees  a  crowd  except  at  a  fire. 
What  he  does  see  and  with  what  he  has  to  deal  are  individual 
men  with  their  different  spiritual  diseases,  yet  how  many  are 
prepared  for  this  ?  The  same  question  may  be  asked  of  the 
Sunday-school  teacher,  who  has  similar  work  and  problems, 
and  we  must  suggest  the  same  answer.  The  psychological 
view-point,  the  study  of  men  and  their  religious  experiences, 
is  the  only  solution. 

I  recognize  that  spiritual  dissection  and  vivisection  must 
meet  the  same  objections  as,  or  even  more  strenuous  objec- 
tions than,  their  physical  analogues,  but  one  is  as  necessary 
as  the  other,  and  both  are  imperative,  if  an  adequate  knowl- 
edge of  the  subject  is  to  be  obtained.  Some  persons  consider 
their  own  religious  experience  as  a  sacred  domain  where  only 
they  themselves  can  tread  and  that  with  unshod  feet,  and 
they  demand  the  same  privilege  for  others.  With  these 
people  there  is  no  argument  which  can  be  used  to  change 
their  opinion— they  must  be  allowed  their  ideas,  but  most 
fair-minded  persons  can  see  the  value  of  such  an  enquiry  for 
the  sake  of  obtaining  facts,  and  the  necessity  of  the  discussion 
of  these  facts  for  the  purpose  of  setting  forth  the  spiritual 
diseases  and  their  concomitant  cures. 

A  further  objection  is  raised  to  the  investigation  of  religious 
phenomena.  Some  are  afraid  that  the  analysis  and  descrip- 
tion of  religious  experiences  will  eliminate  the  divine  elements 
or  destroy  their  peculiarly  devotional  factors.   These  fears  are 


THROUGH  THE  HUMAN  MOULD  9 

groundless.  The  religion  which  can  only  be  supported  by 
ignorance  or  superstition  cannot  hope  to  minister  to  the 
twentieth  century,  and  Jesus  does  not  speak  in  compliment- 
ary terms  of  those  who  love  darkness  rather  than  light.  The 
duty  of  a  spiritual  physician  must  be  twofold,  that  of  teach- 
ing spiritual  hygiene  to  the  healthy  and  the  cure  of  the  dis- 
eased; for  it  is  as  important  that  the  healthy  be  kept  well  as 
that  the  sick  be  healed. 

The  data  for  the  science  of  psychology  are  rather  difficult 
to  obtain.  True,  we  have  all  had  some  experience,  and  ma- 
terial may  seem  to  be  present  wherever  we  look.  The  diffi- 
culty is  that  there  is  much  self-deception  in  introspection; 
very  few  persons  are  able  to  interpret  their  own  psychical 
experiences.  This  is  especially  true  of  religious  experience. 
The  first  thing  which  genuine  introspection  discloses  to  us  is 
that  self-knowledge  is  exceedingly  hard  to  obtain.  After  a 
time  has  elapsed,  we  are  liable  to  cite  our  experience  as  we 
unconsciously  think  it  should  be  according  to  the  testimony 
of  others,  or  according  to  orthodox  standards,  rather  than  as 
it  really  occurred,  and  still  be  perfectly  honest  about  it.  Not 
only  are  certain  standards  of  experience  suggested  so  that 
persons  have  it  according  to  this  or  that  form,  but  even  if 
the  experience  does  not  exactly  correspond  to  this  at  the  time 
the  powerful  influence  of  suggestion  helps  to  harmonize  the 
two. 

There  is  a  further  difficulty.  It  is  hard  to  get  the  facts 
without  at  the  same  time  receiving  the  theory  of  the  person 
experiencing  the  facts,  and  the  theory  very  frequently  colors 
the  facts.  If  a  person  is  asked  to  observe  his  religious  mani- 
festations, he  usually  does  it  with  his  theoretical  postulates 
in  mind,  so  that  it  is  difficult  to  make  the  facts  serve  for  any 
other  purpose  than  for  that  which  the  one  experiencing  them 
intends.  This  is  another  disadvantage  of  the  mould,  but  as 
we  recognize  the  difficulties  we  are  in  a  better  position  to 


io     THROUGH  THE  HUMAN  MOULD 

overcome  them.  In  fact,  we  shall  see  that  the  variety  of 
moulds  may  be  quite  confusing,  but  as  this  is  our  only  avenue 
for  receiving,  we  are  left  no  other  alternative  than  to  examine 
the  product  as  it  comes  through  the  mould  and  endeavor  to 
interpret  the  design  of  the  Great  Moulder.  This  is  for  no 
selfish  end  or  petty  gain,  but  in  order  that  the  human  mould 
itself  may  be  so  corrected,  so  formed  and  smoothed  and 
softened  that  the  real  beauty  and  grandeur  of  the  Moulder's 
design  may  be  apparent  to  all  men. 

To  force  all  moulds  to  conform  to  a  uniform  pattern  would 
defeat,  not  accomplish,  this  purpose.  Education  is  insisting 
that  individuality  must  be  preserved,  and  this  is  also  vital  to 
religion.  The  aim  must  be  to  furnish  guidance  so  that  the 
individual  characteristics  may  be  developed;  variety  in 
unity,  not  homogeneity,  is  the  ideal  of  the  kingdom  of  God. 
The  affirmation  of  God  in  the  life,  and  the  realization  of  the 
true  man — the  child  of  God — in  the  individual,  rather  than 
self-effacement,  fulfil  the  teachings  of  the  Man  of  Galilee. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE   RELIGIOUS   FACULTY 

"This  above  all:  to  thine  own  self  be  true, 
And  it  must  follow,  as  the  night  the  day, 
Thou  canst  not  then  be  false  to  any  man." 

Shakespeare. 

This  chapter  is  named  in  accordance  with  the  law  of 
compensation.  I  speak  of  the  "Religious  Faculty"  because 
there  is  no  such  thing.  Years  ago,  before  psychology  had 
attained  the  dignity  of  a  science,  or  at  least  before  the  science 
had  advanced  to  its  present  stage,  the  mind  was  divided  into 
"faculties."  These  faculties  were  separate  and  distinct,  and 
each  one  was  devoted  to  some  particular  business.  Thus  we 
had  the  "Religious  Faculty, '  which  was  used  exclusively  for 
religious  purposes;  it  could  not  be  used  for  anything  else  and 
no  other  faculty  could  be  used  for  religious  exercises.  We 
have  grown  away  from  this  idea  of  mentality  as  we  have  be- 
come better  informed  concerning  psychic  phenomena. 

A  great  step  in  advance  was  made  when  psychologists 
began  to  view  the  mind  according  to  its  activity  rather  than 
according  to  its  content.  The  present  accepted  divisions  are 
those  of  Intellect,  Feeling,  and  Will,  and  these  are  present 
to  some  degree  in  all  mental  acts.  We  designate  a  particular 
act  of  mind  as  intellectual  when  the  intellectual  factor  pre- 
dominates, but  that  does  not  mean  that  there  is  no  emotional 
nor  volitional  factor  involved.  The  mind  functions  in  a 
similar  manner  regardless  of  the  subject  before  it.  The 
same  intellectual  activity  is  present  in  religious  thinking  as  in 


12  THE  RELIGIOUS  FACULTY 

financial,  the  same  powers  of  mind  are  at  work  in  biblical 
study  as  in  mathematical.  Not  a  different  u  faculty,"  but  a  dif- 
ferent aim,  distinguishes  the  different  forms  of  mental  action. 

Perhaps,  however,  there  is  no  subject  which  completely 
calls  into  activity  the  whole  mind  so  much  as  religion.  No 
phase  of  mental  life  escapes,  for  it  is  all-embracing.  For  a 
well-developed  religious  experience,  the  activity  of  the  whole 
man  is  necessary.  Some  persons  receive  the  consciousness  of 
God  through  one  activity,  some  through  another,  while  others 
are  not  able  to  designate  any  special  channel  through  which 
this  has  come,  but  find  that  the  working  of  the  whole  mind  in 
general  ways  has  conveyed  it  to  them.  The  sense  of  the 
divine  presence  penetrates  all  forms  of  human  mentality, 
and  is  not  limited  to  special  occasions,  or  extraordinary  or 
abnormal  experience.  If  we  believe  in  the  immanence  of 
God,  we  should  expect  Him  to  appeal  to  us  through  all  of  our 
mental  states.    It  is  hard  for  most  persons  to  realize  this. 

A  study  of  the  various  definitions  of  religion  will  reveal 
a  thorough  one-sidedness.  Each  person  emphasizes  that 
factor  which  is  prominent  in  his  own  religious  life.  He  for- 
gets that  the  bond  between  the  various  mental  factors  is  so 
close  that  we  cannot  stimulate  any  one  without  exciting  the 
others.  This  being  true,  we  cannot  sympathize  with  those 
who  endeavor  to  eliminate  one  or  another  part  of  mental 
activity  from  the  religious  life.  The  rationalist  who  recog- 
nizes the  emotional  abuses  in  some  religious  gatherings 
would  reduce  emotion  in  religion  to  a  minimum.  He  errs  at 
one  extreme.  The  emotionalist  who  recognizes  the  coldness 
and  motivelessness  of  the  rationalistic  standpoint  would  cul- 
tivate zeal  at  the  expense  of  knowledge.  He  also  errs.  To  be 
rational  is  not  to  be  devoid  of  feeling,  any  more  than  to  rec- 
ognize the  value  of  feeling  is  to  indulge  in  unreasonable 
action.  The  strong  volitional  character  is  not  the  religious 
ideal  any  more  than  the  feeble  saint.    The  divine  in  man  can 


THE  RELIGIOUS  FACULTY  13 

mean  no  single  quality;  it  must  mean  the  well-developed 
combination  of  all  human  qualities.  Therefore  the  ideal  is 
seen  in  no  one  person  around  us,  but  each  man  who  is  trying 
to  live  his  life  worthily  spells  one  syllable  or  word;  the  com- 
bined expression  of  the  religious  community,  "the  kingdom 
of  God,"  furnishes  the  completed  sentence  which  defines  the 
divine. 

"  Strong  affections  need  a  strong  will;  strong  active  powers 
need  a  strong  intellect;  strong  intellect  needs  strong  sympa- 
thies, to  keep  life  steady.  If  the  balance  exist,  no  one  faculty 
can  possibly  be  too  strong — we  only  get  the  stronger  all- 
round  character.  In  the  life  of  saints,  technically  so  called, 
the  spiritual  faculties  are  strong,  but  what  gives  the  impression 
of  extravagance  proves  usually  on  examination  to  be  a  rela- 
tive deficiency  of  intellect.  Spiritual  excitement  takes  path- 
ological forms  whenever  other  interests  are  too  few  and  the 
intellect  too  narrow.  We  find  this  exemplified  by  all  the 
saintly  attributes  in  turn — devout  love  of  God,  purity, 
charity,  asceticism,  all  may  lead  astray." x 

Christian  experience  is  far  richer  and  more  varied  than  is 
generally  supposed  and  taught,  and  no  single  type  or  group 
of  types  can  exhaust  it.  Many  who  seek  for  certain  experi- 
ences, which  a  one-sided  teacher  may  proclaim  as  their 
privilege,  are  sorely  disappointed;  for  these  experiences  may 
not  be  possible  with  the  peculiar  temperament  of  certain 
individuals.  The  best  religion,  real  religion,  ought  to  call 
into  operation  all  the  faculties  of  the  individual  mind,  and  no 
temperamental  nor  sentimental  tests  must  be  applied;  each 
one  must  discover  for  himself  the  type  of  religion  which  cor- 
responds best  with  what  he  believes  to  be  his  mental  make-up 
and  with  what  he  thinks  to  be  his  true  work  here;  and  in  the 
way  which  most  properly  expresses  his  own  soul  he  should 
seek  to  establish  personal  relations  with  God. 

1 W.  James,  The  Varieties  0}  Religious  Experience,  p.  340. 


i4  THE  RELIGIOUS  FACULTY 

What  is  needed  is  the  symmetrical  working  of  the  indi- 
vidual mind,  in  order  that  emotion,  intellect,  and  will  may 
each  perform  its  proper  function  according  to  the  idiosyn- 
crasies of  the  individual,  and  that  the  various  functions  may 
work  together  like  the  delicate  yet  well-adjusted  parts  of  an 
intricate  machine.  It  is  well  to  notice  that  the  requisites  of 
the  Christian  religion  are  expressed  by  the  terms,  belief, 
love,  and  activity,  which,  as  we  shall  readily  recognize,  cor- 
respond to  our  tripartite  mental  division,  intellect,  feeling, 
and  will.  There  is  room  in  religion  for  the  exercise  of  all  our 
powers,  and  it  requires  the  normal  working  of  each  one  to 
keep  the  others  in  place.  In  fact,  if  we  seek  the  mental 
sources  of  religion  we  shall  discover  that  they  are  to  be  found 
in  all  psychic  action. 

There  is  one  form  of  mental  activity  which  has  been  much 
emphasized  during  the  last  few  years.  Only  recently  has  its 
existence  in  its  present  form  been  recognized,  and,  as  is 
usual  in  such  cases,  I  fear  too  much  has  been  attributed  to  it. 
It  has  been  known  by  many  names,  chief  among  which  are 
"The  Subconscious  Self"  and  "The  Subliminal  Self." 
There  is  a  valid  objection  to  any  name  in  which  the  word 
"self"  is  used,  for  it  insinuates  the  presence  of  a  duality  or 
multiplicity  of  personalities  connected  with  one  brain  or 
body.  In  invading  the  integrity  of  the  personality  much  con- 
fusion and  misapprehension  arise.  The  term  "subcon- 
sciousness" seems  to  me  to  be  descriptive,  but  at  the  same 
time  free  from  the  objections  which  may  be  charged  against 
the  other  terms.  The  name  implies  a  theory,  and  although 
the  same  phenomena  are  discussed  which  were  formerly 
credited  to  "unconscious  cerebration,"  a  different  explanation 
of  them  is  given.  While  much — good,  bad,  and  indifferent 
— has  been  written  on  the  subject,  it  is  necessary  for  us  to 
deal  with  it  here  somewhat  fully.  This  necessity  arises  for 
two  reasons:   it  is  not  generally  so  well  known  as  the  more 


THE  RELIGIOUS  FACULTY  15 

common  forms  of  mental  activity,  and  in  the  following  pages 
it  will  be  used  in  the  explanation  of  some  religious  experi- 
ences which  were  formerly  credited  to  other  agents. 

If  we  will  stop  for  a  moment  and  consider,  we  shall  realize 
that  there  is  much  mental  activity  of  which  we  are  not  con- 
scious. Some  of  this  which  at  one  time  caused  much  con- 
scious effort  is  now  carried  on  unconsciously  through  the 
mechanism  of  habit;  some  other  portions  we  have  never 
consciously  directed.  All  that  part  of  the  mind  which  min- 
isters to  somatic  activity  is  an  example  of  the  latter.  The 
respiration,  heart  action,  secretions  of  the  various  organs, 
peristaltic  action  of  the  stomach  and  intestines,  regulation  of 
the  blood  supply,  and  other  vital  functions,  are  all  controlled 
by  the  subconsciousness,  and  any  direct,  conscious  effort  to 
control  these  organs  tends  rather  to  disarrange  and  disturb 
function  than  to  assist  it.  So  long  as  the  organs  are  in  health 
and  perform  their  regular  functions  in  their  proper  manner, 
the  consciousness  is  entirely  ignorant  of  their  existence. 
When  you  begin  to  know  that  you  have  organs,  then  some- 
thing is  wrong,  for  the  subconsciousness  sends  out  a  warning 
in  the  form  of  pain  and  demands  that  consciousness  shall 
supply  a  remedy.  Because  the  subconsciousness  controls 
these  bodily  functions,  it  is  only  by  reaching  it,  directly  or 
indirectly,  that  these  organs  can  be  affected  through  mental 
means. 

While  this  is  an  important  office  of  the  subconsciousness,  it 
is  not,  by  any  means,  its  principal  work.  It  is  the  constant 
ally  of  consciousness.  Subconscious  influence  is  woven  into 
every  mental  product.  There  is  no  doubt  that  subconscious 
impressions  govern  many  actions  every  day.  We  do  not  realize 
whence  they  come,  but  they  may  even  force  us  in  opposition 
to  our  reason.  Thus  we  may  have  intuitions,  impulses,  un- 
reasonable likes  and  dislikes,  love  at  first  sight,  convictions 
without  any  reason  to  uphold  them,  or  spontaneous  ideas 


16  THE  RELIGIOUS  FACULTY 

apparently  well  worked  out.  Delusive,  fixed,  insane,  or  hys- 
terical ideas  also  find  their  source  in  the  subconsciousness. 
It  is  not  a  separate  entity,  nor  is  it  antagonistic  to  conscious- 
ness; they  work  together.  The  two  fields  of  mental  activity 
are  divided  by  what  has  been  designated  "the  threshold  of 
consciousness."  All  above  is  consciousness,  all  below  is  sub- 
consciousness, but  they  interact  on  each  other.  The  im- 
pressions which  we  consciously  receive  are  not  all  that  we 
get;  the  subconsciousness  receives  much  which  escapes  con- 
sciousness, and  may  dispatch  certain  impressions  to  con- 
sciousness at  an  opportune  time,  or  if  not  definite  impressions, 
it  may  furnish  a  mood  which  cannot  be  consciously  accounted 
for.  Consciousness  is  selective  and  critical,  the  subcon- 
sciousness is  not  It  takes  anything  and  everything  without 
question,  but  it  is  not  always  allowed  by  consciousness  to 
incorporate  these  things  into  the  life.  It  is  exceedingly  imita- 
tive; what  is  often  charged  to  heredity  may  be  but  the  activ- 
ity of  the  imitative  subconsciousness. 

Perhaps  no  better  example  of  the  work  of  the  subconscious- 
ness can  be  mentioned  than  that  of  genius.  What  distin- 
guishes the  genius  from  the  ordinary  man  ?  It  is  not  the  ex- 
aggeration of  reasoning  or  volitional  power,  but  rather  the 
remarkable  and  numerous  impressions  or  ideas  which  "pop" 
into  his  consciousness  ready-made.  He  is  not  conscious  of 
thinking  these  things  out,  but  at  times  sits  by  as  an  inter- 
ested spectator  and  wonders  what  will  come  next.  How  do 
we  explain  this  psychologically?  It  is  the  activity  of  the 
subconsciousness  which  sends  into  consciousness  these  mani- 
fold helps.  Perhaps  we  might  say  that  the  threshold  of  con- 
sciousness is  lowered,  i.  e.,  that  the  every-day  working  ability 
of  the  mind  is  extended  to  take  in  and  more  readily  use  addi- 
tional subconscious  areas,  so  that  the  latter  more  fully  co-op- 
erate with  and  supplement  consciousness  while  the  regular 
work  goes  on.    An  extreme  example  of  this  may  be  found  in 


THE  RELIGIOUS  FACULTY  17 

prodigies  who  make  their  appearance  occasionally,  e.  g.,  the 
mathematical  prodigy  who  "knows  the  answer"  without 
consciously  working  out  the  arithmetical  exercise.  Some 
further  cases  may  be  mentioned  akin  to  this,  of  persons  unable 
to  solve  problems  at  night  and  waking  up  in  the  morning 
with  the  solution,  or  dreaming  the  solution.  This  leads  us 
a  step  further. 

During  sleep,  when  consciousness  no  longer  rules  and 
controls  life,  the  subconsciousness  has  charge.  At  this  time 
the  bodily  functions  are  carried  on  as  usual,  as  well  as  much 
other  mental  activity.  Some  persons  are  able  to  suggest  a 
time  of  waking,  and  the  subconsciousness  acts  as  the  alarm 
clock.  The  mother's  subconsciousness  disturbs  and  awakens 
her  if  the  baby  breathes  hard,  but  allows  her  to  sleep  through 
the  slamming  of  doors  and  the  crashing  of  thunder.  These 
and  other  purposeful  and  useful  actions  are  performed  with- 
out the  aid  of  consciousness.  We  must,  however,  be  careful 
not  to  confuse  actions  of  this  kind  with  others  which  we  con- 
sciously performed  but  forgot  on  awaking.  In  dreams  we 
have  the  subconsciousness  working  freely,  but  in  its  uncriti- 
cal way,  so  that  most  dreams  are  valueless.  The  somnambu- 
list, who,  during  sleep,  walks  around  and  performs  work, 
shows  the  subconsciousness  taking  full  charge  and  accom- 
plishing difficult  or  nominally  impossible  feats,  or  doing  work 
which  the  consciousness  needs,  e.  g.,  writing  sermons,  solving 
problems,  drawing  diagrams,  or  finding  lost  articles. 

Sleep  furnishes  us  with  an  example  of  another  subconscious 
principle,  viz.,  the  subconsciousness  may  be  communicated 
with  and  may  control  the  body  quite  fully  when  by  some 
means  the  normal,  controlling  action  of  the  mind  is  excluded. 
The  time  when  the  subconsciousness  can  be  most  surely 
reached  with  profit  is  during  the  hypnotic  state.  Then  the 
consciousness  is  in  abeyance  and  the  subconsciousness  has 
control.    It  may  also  be  approached  directly  during  the  mo- 


18  THE  RELIGIOUS  FACULTY 

ments  preceding  sleep,  during  delirium  and  other  mental 
disorders,  in  automatic  writing,  and  in  conditions  some  of 
which  we  shall  study  in  the  following  pages. 

The  chief  characteristic  of  the  subconsciousness,  and  one 
that  we  shall  do  well  to  remember  for  our  use  in  these  pages,  is 
its  suggestibleness.  I  have  already  mentioned  its  uncritical 
and  unselective  character;  on  account  of  this  it  is  suggestible. 
Anything  suggested  is  received,  and,  so  far  as  possible,  it  is 
carried  out.  I  have  not  tried  to  give  a  plenary  description 
of  it,  but  only  such  as  seemed  necessary  to  assist  us  in  the 
explanation  of  religious  phenomena  to  be  given  later. 

I  do  not  wish  to  be  understood,  either  here  or  in  any  other 
place,  as  giving  too  much  credit  to  the  work  of  the  sub- 
consciousness. To  do  that  would  be  to  misrepresent  the 
facts.  It  is  important,  but  so  are  the  conscious  factors  of 
mind.  They  will  be  taken  up  later,  and  due  credit  given 
them  where  it  belongs.  Undue  emphasis  on  the  subcon- 
scious action  tends  to  create  mysteries.  True,  there  are 
mysteries  in  religion,  but  it  is  not  well  to  postulate  nor  sug- 
gest unnecessary  ones.  While  I  trust  that  each  mental 
factor  will  be  dealt  with  in  the  proper  manner,  it  remains 
for  me  to  say  this  before  leaving  the  description  of  the  sub- 
consciousness:  I  believe  if  God  works  directly  in  man  He 
must  work  through  the  subconsciousness.  We  know  of  His 
indirect  dealings  through  the  reason,  imagination,  emotions, 
and  will,  but  directly  in  the  cure  of  bodily  ills,  revelation, 
inspiration,  and  in  other  ways,  the  subconsciousness  has  the 
major  part  to  perform. 

We  do  not  exalt  religion  by  claiming  that  it  deals  largely 
with  one  portion  of  the  mind,  neither  do  we  degrade  it  by 
showing  its  connection  with  any  other  portion.  There  is  no 
partial  operation  of  the  mind  which  may  claim  such  intrinsic 
dignity  that  we  may  strive  to  relate  it  to  our  religious  ex- 
periences for  the  sake  of  the  prestige  which  it  may  lend.     It 


THE  RELIGIOUS  FACULTY  19 

requires  all  forms  of  mentality  to  constitute  the  real  and 
true  man.  The  same  may  be  predicated  of  the  connection 
of  certain  religious  experiences  with  the  physical.  The  rela- 
tion is  real  and  must  be  recognized.  The  physical  condition 
of  the  individual  does  influence  our  mental  states,  but  very 
seldom,  if  ever,  can  we  say  that  it  controls  them.  The  mind 
is  master.  But  our  psychological  study  simply  determines 
the  modus  operandi  of  the  mind  in  religion,  and  does  not 
attempt  to  express  an  opinion  concerning  the  value  of  the 
product.  Ethics,  not  psychology,  must  take  up  the  latter 
task. 

The  question  might  naturally  be  asked,  If  there  is  no 
religious  faculty  set  apart  for  religious  work,  if  religion 
simply  uses  the  ordinary  powers  of  mind,  how  does  it  hap- 
pen that  man  is  religious  at  all?  We  can  give  only  one 
answer,  and  that  may  seem  to  be  lacking  in  illumination. 
Man  is  religious  because  he  belongs  to  the  human  race,  a 
characteristic  of  which  is  to  be  religious.  Of  course  we  are 
able  to  analyze  further  than  this.  We  may  say  that  there 
are  subconscious  influences  which  impel  him  to  be  religious, 
that  there  are  emotional  experiences  which  draw  him  in  this 
same  direction;  we  may  call  attention  to  the  fact  that  man 
is  naturally  a  philosopher  and  will  speculate  and  try  to 
explain  his  existence,  its  source  and  destiny;  we  may  con- 
sider his  social  instincts  as  aids  to  the  religious  life,  and  we 
may  recognize  that  through  imitation  he  may  wish  to  be  like 
the  God  whom  his  speculations  and  intuitions  picture,  but, 
after  all,  what  is  this  but  saying  that  he  is  so  constituted 
mentally  that  he  cannot  help  it?  He  is,  as  Sabatier  says, 
"incurably  religious." 

The  "Religious  Faculty"  proves  to  be  not  one  mental  area 
fenced  off  from  the  rest,  but  man  in  his  entirety.  Not  a 
psychic  factor  is  left  out,  for  religion  requires  and  uses  the 
whole  man. 


CHAPTER  III 

MYSTICISM 

"We  are  such  stuff 
As  dreams  are  made  on,  and  our  little  life 
Is  rounded  with  a  sleep." — Shakespeare. 

In  taking  up  Mysticism  as  the  first  form  of  religious  ex- 
pression to  be  discussed,  I  do  so  for  two  reasons.  In  the 
first  place,  it  is  an  experience  common  to  all  people;  and  in 
the  second  place,  it  leads  naturally  to  a  number  of  religious 
phenomena  which  are  usually  connected  with  it,  while  not 
an  integral  or  necessary  part  of  it. 

While  it  is  true  that  mysticism,  especially  in  its  extreme 
forms,  is  a  matter  of  temperament  and  unattainable  by  some 
people,  yet  we  find  in  it  the  kernel  of  all  religions,  and  of 
Christianity  not  less  than  of  others.  It  is  found  among  all 
races,  and  all  religions  must  look  to  it  in  seeking  for  origins, 
and  for  the  method  and  cause  of  revival  after  religious 
declension.  In  times  when  a  barren  orthodoxy  has  usurped 
the  place  of  a  vital  faith,  mystics  have  arisen  to  show  by 
practical  means  that  religion  is  something  more  than  a  dry 
dogma,  which  furnishes  an  exercise  for  the  understanding. 
It  is  a  protest  of  the  individual,  living,  inner  experience 
against  the  formal  systems  of  men  long  since  dead  and 
buried. 

Religion — real  religion — always  contains  a  unique  factor 
for  every  individual,  and  nothing  short  of  mystical  ex- 
periences of  the  more  pronounced  type  will  satisfy  some 
people.     Every  one  is  justified  in  having  his  own  religious 

20 


MYSTICISM  21 

needs  satisfactorily  met,  for  "it  is  only  in  the  reality  of  the 
living  experience  of  the  Individual  Self  that  the  Universal  and 
Absolute  becomes  known  and  believed  in  or  dimly  appre- 
hended as  felt."  '  The  religious  strivings  which  we  may  not 
be  able  to  share  with  others  are  strictly  our  own,  and  these 
are  the  experiences  which  make  religion.  We  may  say  that 
religion  stands  or  falls  with  the  personal  inner  experiences. 

Perhaps  the  most  common  mystical  experience,  not  only 
in  all  religions,  but  in  all  individuals  of  all  religions,  is  that 
of  prayer.  Here,  if  it  is  truly  prayer,  we  come  into  con- 
scious realization  of  a  union  with  God,  and  this  is  the  heart 
of  mysticism.  The  church  has  never  been  without  its 
mystics,  nor  could  it  well  exist  without  its  mystical  phases  of 
piety.  In  the  dark  ages  mysticism  was  the  saving  power, 
the  Reformation  owes  not  a  little  of  its  strength  to  this  same 
cause,  and  even  to-day  the  virility  of  Protestantism  is  sus- 
tained by  personal  religious  experiences,  notwithstanding 
the  many  vagaries  and  even  pathological  factors  in  the 
expression  of  these  inner  experiences. 

The  religious  phenomena  which  are  usually  associated  with 
mysticism  centre  around  the  experiences  of  ecstasy.  Mys- 
ticism, pure  and  simple,  is  a  normal  religious  experience,  but 
ecstatic  states  are  liable  to  be  based  upon  pathological  con- 
ditions, and  hence  those  psychologists  who  are  searching  for 
traces  of  disease  in  everything  outside  of  every-day  ex- 
periences are  liable  to  attribute  a  morbid  character  to  mys- 
ticism as  such.2  Starting  from  this  normal  and  common 
experience  we  may  take  up  these  less  common  religious 
phenomena  in  a  natural  order  and  sequence. 

While  mysticism  lends  itself  to  a  primary  place  in  our 
discussion  on  account  of  its  known  factors,  there  are  some 

1  G.  T.  Ladd,  Philosophy  oj  Religion,  I,  p.  595. 

2  E.  Murisier,  Les  maladies  du  sentiment  religieux,  includes  mysticism 
among  these  diseases. 


22  MYSTICISM 

reasons  why  it  might  be  transferred  to  a  late  place  on  our 
programme,  chief  among  which  is  the  great  difficulty  and 
diversity  of  definition.1  The  definition  is  usually  given 
according  to  the  personal  experience  of  the  one  defining,  or 
else  according  to  the  particular  form  with  which  one  is  most 
familiar.  This  means,  of  course,  that  there  are  many  dif- 
ferent forms  of  mysticism:  for  example,  there  is  religious, 
philosophic,  and  artistic  mysticism,  and  of  the  first  kind, 
the  type  with  which  we  are  now  dealing,  emphasis  may  be 
laid  on  the  epistemological  or  on  the  emotional  factor;  it  may 
be  spontaneous  or  induced;  it  may  be  normal  or  pathological. 
It  is  evident  that  any  one  describing  one  form  of  mysticism 
would  not  be  likely  to  form  a  definition  which  would  apply 
to  all  or  perhaps  any  of  the  other  forms,  and  hence  the  con- 
fusion. 

What  is  true  of  the  definition  is  also  true  concerning  the 
value  placed  upon  the  experience  by  different  observers. 
Some  consider  it  pathological  or  a  symptom  of  densest 
ignorance,  others  think  of  it  as  the  highest  mental  product, 
or  divine  inspiration.  Some  think  of  the  revelation  received 
through  mysticism  as  the  exact  words,  direct  from  the  lips  of 
the  Almighty,  others  affirm  that  it  is  but  the  insane  promptings 
of  a  diseased  brain.2  We  must  account  for  this  difference 
in  valuation  in  the  same  way  as  we  account  for  the  variety 
of  definitions,  viz.,  those  expressing  these  opinions  have  come 
in  contact  with  the  different  forms  of  mysticism,  and  all,  in 
fact,  may  be  right  without  contradicting  one  another.  As  in 
the  investigation  of  any  phenomenon,  we  must  not  use  the 
extreme  or  abnormal  cases  as  typical  ones,  but  only  as 
illustrating  some  factors  of  the  normal  type  much  magnified. 
The  philosophical  type  of  mysticism  is  best  exemplified  by 

'See  a  number  of  definitions,  W.  R.  Inge,  Christian  Mysticism, 
Appendix  A. 

*  J.  Moses,  Pathological  Aspects  oj  Religions,  pp.  69  and  72. 


MYSTICISM  23 

the  mystics  of  India,  who  are  heirs  of  centuries  of  profound 
thinking  which  has,  however,  been  productive  of  a  limited 
amount  of  bodily  movement.  We  may  say,  also,  that  Chris- 
tian mysticism  is  hardly  a  native  product,  but  has  been 
derived  chiefly  from  heathen  sources.  The  Greek  and 
other  Neo-Platonists  made  the  primary  contribution,  and 
later  the  influence  of  Eastern  mysticism  was  felt.  By  this  I 
do  not  mean  that  the  New  Testament  shows  no  traces  of 
mysticism:  the  contrary  is  the  case.  Jesus'  words  are  filled 
with  mystical  significance  at  times,  and  Paul  and  John  were 
both  mystics,  the  former  telling  us  that  he  was  caught  up 
into  the  third  heaven  and  heard  things  which  he  could  not 
express  in  language.  But  we  must  also  remember  that  Paul 
quotes  mystical  utterances  from  the  Greeks,  and  his  evident 
knowledge  of  Greek  literature  proved  a  source  of  mysticism 
in  him.  Paul  and  John,  especially  the  latter,  represent  a 
more  philosophical  type  of  mysticism  than  Jesus,  whose 
attitude  was  more  plain  and  business-like.  "It  is  conceded 
that  Mark's  non-mystical  picture  of  the  Master  is  nearer  the 
facts  in  point  of  time  and  contains  less  subjective  coloring 
than  that  of  John.  The  latter  was  a  mystic  theologian,  who 
confessedly  wrote  his  version  of  the  gospel  history  in  order 
to  establish  a  doctrinal  point  of  view."  * 

The  endeavor  of  the  human  mind  to  grasp  the  divine  source 
or  the  ultimate  reality  of  things  is  the  philosophical  basis  of 
mysticism.  "Speculative  mysticism  has  occupied  itself 
largely  with  these  two  great  subjects — the  immanence  of  God 
in  nature,  and  the  relation  of  human  personality  to  Divine. 
.  .  .  The  Unity  of  all  existence  is  a  fundamental  doctrine  of 
mysticism.  God  is  in  all  and  all  is  in  God."  2  The  point 
of  departure  for  the  philosophical  mystic  is  the  notion  of 
being  or  unity,  and  so  the  immanence  of  God  is  the  logical 

1  G.  A.  Coe,  The  Religion  of  a  Mature  Mind,  p.  191. 
3  W.  R.  Inge,  Christian  Mysticism,  p.  28. 


24  MYSTICISM 

conclusion.  By  means  of  the  "oversold"  this  immanence  is 
discovered  and  utilized.1 

We  can  well  see  how  many  mystics  claimed  to  be  and 
thought  themselves  to  be  pantheists,  when  all  they  really 
meant  was  that  they  believed  in  the  immanence  of  God. 
With  this,  however,  they  also  believed  in  the  transcendence 
of  God,  and  never  lost  the  idea  of  personality.  "We  have  to 
distinguish  also  between  mysticism  and  pantheism.  In  pan- 
theism God  is  lost  in  the  world,  and  is  no  longer  related  to  it; 
he  has  no  reality  except  in  nature,  and  ceases  to  be  self -related 
and  to  have  consciousness.  Now,  religion  implies  some  term 
of  self.  Therefore,  no  religion  is  possible  in  real  pantheism. 
When  men  say  they  are  pantheists,  they  usually  mean  that 
they  are  mystics  like  Paul.  For  this  mysticism  there  is  per- 
haps no  better  formula  than  Schleiermacher's  sense  of  abso- 
lute dependence."  "We  do  not  always  distinguish  as  we 
ought  between  mysticism  and  pantheism.  In  the  words 
themselves  there  is  no  reason  why  they  should  not  carry 
the  same  meaning.  ...  In  mysticism  is  implied  both  the 
immanence  and  the  transcendence  of  the  divine  being  in 
the  universe;  in  pantheism  only  the  immanence.  ...  If 
the  leaves  could  be  conscious  of  their  relation  to  the  tree, 
they  would  be  to  that  extent  mystics."  2 

The  pantheistic  tendency  is  due  to  the  sense  of  communion, 
presence,  or  unity  with  God.  "Mysticism  is  subjective 
religion.  It  is  religion  seeking  to  emancipate  itself  from 
the  tyranny  of  external  media.  It  is  religion  bringing  the 
soul  into  the  immediate  presence  of  God,  and  insisting  on  its 
right  to  live  in  immediate  fellowship  with  Him.   ...   It  is 

1  R.  W.  Emerson,  The  Oversoul  (Essays) ;  F.  Granger,  The  Soul  of  a 
Christian,  pp.  59  j}.,  192  fi.;  W.  R.  Inge,  Christian  Mysticism,  pp. 

32*  #• 

2  C.  C.  Everett,  The  Psychological  Elements  0}  Religious  Faith,  pp. 
74  and  169. 


MYSTICISM 


25 


the  very  heart  of  religion."  '  By  this  union  the  soul  is  sup- 
posed to  be  freed  from  the  body,  and  the  aim  of  the  mystic  is 
to  overcome  all  barriers  between  the  individual  and  his  God 
so  as  to  become  one  with  the  Absolute  and  to  be  aware  of  this 
unity.  In  this  state  alone,  thinks  the  mystic,  the  real  nature 
of  things  may  be  known  and  supernatural  objects  may  be  con- 
templated. This  sense  of  unity  is  obtained  by  a  complete  self- 
surrender  on  the  part  of  the  individual. 

"The  mystical  tendency  in  Clement  of  Alexandria,  Origen, 
and  even  in  the  earlier  and  more  devotional  writings  of 
Augustine,  leads  these  writers  to  expressions  which  seem  to 
imply  such  a  surrender,  by  will,  of  the  Egohood  of  man  that 
he  realizes  the  goal  of  religious  aspiration  by  being  lost  or 
absorbed  in  the  Infinite  God.  In  the  Middle  Ages  Scotus 
Erigena  and  others  indulged  in  even  more  extreme  views. 
Many  passages,  expressive  of  the  same  opinion,  might  be 
quoted  from  Master  Eckhart  and  the  other  Christian  Mystics 
of  later  times.  Eckhart  not  only  affirms,  'Wherever  I  am 
there  is  God' — a  declaration  which,  understood  in  a  certain 
way,  any  pious  soul  might  make;  but  he  also  declares  that 
man's  perfection  is  to  enter  into  the  Ground  which  is  ground- 
less; and  of  those  who  are  born  of  the  spirit,  he  says,  that 
their  Ego  'dies  away  in  the  miracle  of  Godhood,  for  in  the 
oneness  with  God  it  possesses  no  discrimination.  The  per- 
sonal loses  its  name  in  oneness.'"  2 

"We  have  seen  that  in  Schleiermacher's  view  no  divine 
attributes  can  be  recognized  except  those  which  grow  out  of 
the  relation  of  absolute  dependence  in  which  we  stand 
toward  God.  In  such  a  conception  of  religion  there  is  little 
room  for  forms  of  worship.  Little  praise  can  be  offered,  no 
direct  obedience  is  possible.  We  have  only  on  the  one  hand 
mystery,  as  in  the  Unknowable  of  Spencer,  the  recognition  of 

1 1,.  O.  Brastow,  The  Modem  Pulpit,  p.  11. 

2  G.  T.  Ladd,  Philosophy  of  Religion,  I,  p.  344. 


26  MYSTICISM 

that  which  cannot  be  formulated,  and  on  the  other  hand 
mysticism,  a  recognition  or  sense  of  a  community  between 
the  individual  and  the  absolute  life.  This  sense  of  com- 
munity between  the  human  and  the  divine  varies  in  form. 
It  may  be  of  the  sort  which  underlies  all  profound,  positive 
religion,  the  mysticism  of  Paul  when  he  says,  'In  him  we 
live  and  move  and  have  our  being,'  the  mysticism  which 
takes  form  in  the  doctrine  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  This  is  the 
normal  form  of  mysticism.  Another  sort  results,  abnormal 
and  fantastic,  when  the  individual  life,  believing  itself  one 
with  the  absolute  life,  assumes  that  its  thoughts  are  the 
thoughts  of  God,  and  mistakes  the  vagaries  of  the  imagination 
for  divine  revelation." 

"The  highest  spiritual  unity  manifests  itself  under  two 
aspects:  first,  externally,  as  the  centre  of  the  world;  and 
secondly,  and  more  profoundly,  when  it  is  conceived  as 
immanent  in  the  world.  I  have  already  spoken  of  this  im- 
manent spiritual  unity.  We  find  it  manifested  in  religious 
mysticism.  This  mysticism,  when  normal,  consists  in  the 
recognition  of  a  certain  community  between  the  individual 
and  the  universe,  between  the  finite  spirit  and  the  infinite 
spirit.  It  is  manifested  most  profoundly  in  the  doctrine  of 
the  Holy  Spirit,  which  implies  the  interpenetration  of  the 
individual  by  the  absolute  spirit.  In  its  abnormal  form 
mysticism  falls  easily  into  pantheism.  God  is  absorbed  into 
the  universe.  The  universal  spirit  has  no  consciousness, 
and,  strictly  speaking,  human  individuality  is  lost.  Unity 
becomes  exclusive,  and  the  understanding  has  no  place.  In 
such  abnormal  mysticism  the  individual  sometimes  thinks 
it  unnecessary  to  follow  the  laws  of  thought;  he  believes 
that  he  has  direct  intuitions  of  the  truth.  Conceiving  him- 
self to  be  a  manifestation  of  the  universal  life,  he  thinks  that 
he  can  arrive  at  the  structure  of  the  universe,  as  truth  in 
general,    by   consciousness.     But    this    is   lawless    thought, 


MYSTICISM  27 

dreaming  and  not  reasoning,  the  work  of  the  fanciful 
mind."  1 

There  are  different  degrees  of  this  sense  of  unity.  It  may 
come  simply  as  a  sense  of  the  presence  of  some  other  person.2 
It  may  come  in  the  silence  of  the  night,  during  seasons  of 
great  trouble,  or  even  in  the  turmoil  of  daily  strife.  It  is 
difficult  to  define  this  experience  psychologically,  and  some 
have  confused  it  with  the  aesthetic  and  other  emotions.  The 
sense  of  communion  is  seen  best  in  the  ordinary  experience 
of  prayer,  when  one  has  an  immediate  sense  of  the  presence 
of  God  who  hears  him  pray.  It  is  said  that  St.  Francis, 
during  prayer,  had  such  a  sense  of  God's  presence  that  he 
could  only  repeat  time  after  time,  "My  God!  My  God!" 
and  no  confession  or  request  could  be  uttered  by  his  lips. 

The  mystic  not  only  maintains  the  possibility  of  experien- 
cing the  presence  of  God  and  having  communion  with  Him, 
but  God  ceases  to  be  an  object  of  knowledge  and  belief  and 
becomes  a  vital  experience;  nothing  short  of  real  union  will 
satisfy.  Mysticism  is  "the  attempt  to  realize,  in  thought  and 
feeling,  the  immanence  of  the  temporal  in  the  eternal,  and  of 
the  eternal  in  the  temporal."  "Complete  union  with  God  is 
the  ideal  limit  of  religion,  the  attainment  of  which  would 
be  at  once  its  consummation  and  annihilation.  It  is  in  the 
continual  but  unending  approximation  to  it  that  the  life  of 
religion  consists."3  St.  Teresa  said,  "Sometimes,  when  I 
was  reading,  I  came  suddenly  on  a  sense  of  the  presence  of 
God  which  did  not  allow  me  to  doubt  that  He  was  within 
me  and  that  I  was  entirely  engulfed  in  Him."  Madame 
Guyon  had  a  like  experience.     Ruysbroek  said,  "In  this 

1  C.  C.  Everett,  The  Psychological  Elements  of  Religious  Faith,  pp. 
73  /.  and  167  /. 

2  W.  James,  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  pp.  59-68;  J.  B.  Pratt, 
Psychology  of  Religious  Belief,  pp.  244  ff. 

3  W.  R.  Inge,  Christian  Mysticism,  pp.  5  and  12. 


28  MYSTICISM 

highest  stage  the  soul  is  united  to  God  without  means;  it 
sinks  into  the  vast  darkness  of  Godhead."  Bernard  of 
Clairvaux  said  that  the  soul  knows  itself  to  be  lost  in  God, 
"as  the  little  drop  of  water  when  poured  into  a  quantity  of 
wine  appears  to  surrender  its  own  nature  and  takes  on  both 
the  taste  and  color  of  the  wine."  In  these  later  days  the  mind- 
curers  and  so-called  metaphysical  healers  have  a  feeling  of 
oneness  with  the  Absolute,  and  use  this  as  the  fundamental 
tenet  in  their  teaching,  and  as  the  therapeutic  principle  in 
their  healing. 

It  is  on  account  of  this  certainty  of  union  with  God  that 
the  experiences  of  the  mystic  seem  so  valuable  to  him.  His 
attitude  toward  his  own  position  is  that  of  absolute  certainty, 
and  the  evidence  of  his  own  feelings  and  own  inner  ex- 
perience is  incontrovertible.  He  is  sure  he  is  right.  On 
this  account  he  is  correspondingly  intolerant  of  the  opinions 
and  position  of  others— he  is  equally  sure  they  are  wrong. 
The  mystical  states  are  always  taken  at  their  face  value, 
and  there  is  no  evidence  which  can  be  adduced  that  can  add 
to  the  certainty,  and  no  data  from  which  one  can  reason  to 
lessen  the  immediate  assurance  of  the  experience.  They  are 
felt  to  be  real,  and  that  is  most  convincing. 

On  account  of  this  immediate  certainty  of  the  phenomena, 
the  mystic  cannot  learn  from  others,  but  he  must  be  led  and 
taught  by  the  Spirit.  This  usually  gives  him  the  privilege 
of  reproving  and  finding  fault  with  others  who  have  not  been 
so  favored.  He  does  not  seem  to  realize  that  while  the 
mystical  truths  which  are  vouchsafed  to  him  during  his 
transports  are  absolutely  authoritative  for  him  if  he  wishes 
so  to  consider  them,  they  carry  with  them  no  authority  which 
is  at  all  binding  upon  others  who  do  not  care  to  accept  them 
without  careful  examination.  Examination  does  not  tend  to 
increase  the  number  of  followers,  for  there  is  no  unanimity 
among  mystics;    their  mysticism  is  their  only  bond.     This 


MYSTICISM  29 

individuality  and  these  peculiar  characteristics  which  are 
attached  to  mystical  revelation  cause  it  to  be  more  closely 
related  to  sensation  than  to  conceptual  thought. 

It  is  true  that  some  of  the  mystics  have  had  marvellous 
insight  into  spiritual  things,  and  many  of  their  works  have 
been  of  great  value  in  other  respects.  Swedenborg  was  not 
only  a  dreamer  but  a  scientist,1  and  St.  Teresa  not  only 
experienced  visions  but  showed  remarkable  executive  ability. 
Hegel  thought  that  Jacob  Bohme  held  an  important  place  in 
both  religion  and  philosophy.  Apart  from  its  epistemo- 
logical  value,  mysticism  has  had  a  practical  side.  "Mys- 
ticism consists  primarily  in  a  mode  of  life,  and  then  in  a  mode 
of  reflection.  .  .  .  It  is  a  mode  of  life  which  is  governed  not 
by  the  isolated  promptings  of  instinct  at  first  or  even  at 
second  hand,  but  by  an  ideal.  Hence,  so  far  as  religious 
life  consists  only  in  obedience  to  externally  imposed  rules  of 
conduct  and  belief,  it  is  not  yet  mystical.  And  it  only  be- 
comes mystical  when  the  objects  of  conduct  and  belief  are 
stated  in  the  terms  of  the  spiritual  experience,  an  experience 
which  is  made  our  own."  2  "Self-surrender  appears  in  two 
forms.  The  first,  the  mystical,  is  found  in  Brahmanism  and 
in  the  Christianity  of  the  mystics;  we  see  it  in  Paul,  and  in 
Schleiermacher's  sense  of  absolute  dependence.  In  the 
second,  the  ethical  form,  the  individual  gives  himself  up,  not 
simply  to  the  spirit  of  obedience,  but  to  the  actual  doing  of 
the  will  of  God  in  whatever  direction  one  is  led."  3 

"In  full  maturity  the  rational  and  the  mystical  dwell  to- 
gether in  the  same  spirit,  but  ever  so  that  the  latter  is  under- 
girded  and  guided  by  the  former.  There  is  a  lofty  mys- 
ticism, chastened  by  the  critical  habit,  of  which  one  may 
speak  only  with  the  deepest  respect.     It  was  a  quality  of 

1  W.  White,  Life  of  Emanuel  Swedenborg. 

2  F.  Granger,  The  Soul  oj  a  Christian,  p.  292. 

3  C.  C.  Everett,  The  Psychological  Elements  oj  Religious  Faith,  p.  115. 


3o  MYSTICISM 

Beecher,  of  Brooks,  of  Martineau,  and  of  those  terrible 
mystics,  the  Puritans.  The  practical  reason  was  strong  in 
these  men,  but  nevertheless  they  refused  to  shut  themselves 
up  to  a  testimony  of  the  senses.  They  possessed  and  they 
cultivated  an  inner  consciousness  of  things  which  eye  had  not 
seen  nor  ear  heard.  This  perfect  fusing  of  the  two  chief 
mental  traits  in  the  same  nature  is  the  real  climax  of  mind. 
If  either  be  bred  out  or  atrophied,  there  is  something  lacking 
which  the  courses  of  mental  evolution  should  have  made 
permanent  in  a  man."  1 

The  above  quotations  reveal  the  really  useful  phase  of  the 
mystic  life.  They  show,  what  we  have  already  contended, 
that  mysticism  is  a  varied  experience.  While  there  are  many 
mystics  whose  religion  amounts  to  nothing  more  than  a  pallid, 
sickly  emotionalism,  being  of  no  use  to  themselves  or  others, 
ten  thousand  of  whom  would  not  be  missed  according  to  our 
ideas  of  religion  to-day,  there  are  others  whose  experience 
has  served  as  a  stimulus  to  valuable  work  and  as  a  dynamo 
to  indefatigable  energy.  With  the  most  practical,  however, 
there  is  an  undercurrent  of  weakness.  Professor  James' 
valuable  analysis  of  St.  Teresa,  the  most  zealous  of  the  Span- 
ish mystics,  who  excelled  in  energy  and  industry,  points  this 
out.  Listen  to  what  he  says:  "Take  Saint  Teresa,  .  .  . 
one  of  the  ablest  women,  in  many  respects,  of  whose  life  we 
have  the  record.  She  had  a  powerful  intellect  of  the  prac- 
tical order.  She  wrote  admirable  descriptive  psychology, 
possessed  a  will  equal  to  any  emergency,  great  talent  for 
politics  and  business,  a  buoyant  disposition,  and  a  first-rate 
literary  style.  She  was  tenaciously  aspiring,  and  put  her 
whole  life  at  the  service  of  her  religious  ideals.  Yet  so 
paltry  were  these,  according  to  our  present  way  of  thinking, 
that  (although  I  know  that  others  have  been  moved  differ- 
ently) I  confess  that  my  only  feeling  in  reading  her  has  been 

1  F.  M.  Davenport,  Primitive  Traits  in  Religious  Revivals,  p.  281. 


MYSTICISM  31 

pity  that  so  much  vitality  of  soul  should  have  found  such 
poor  employment."  l 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  real  insight,  clearer  intellectual  vision, 
strengthened  moral  purpose,  and  many  valuable  suggestions 
have  come  as  a  product  of  the  mystical  consciousness.  A 
false  division  has  come  between  certain  classes  of  mystics, 
however,  and  the  rock  upon  which  they  have  split  is  the 
question  concerning  the  comparative  value  of  two  systems  of 
acquiring  knowledge.  Can  more  be  learned  concerning  God 
by  a  close  observation  of  the  world  around  us,  by  a  study  of 
nature  and  our  fellow-men,  or  by  withdrawing  into  our  inner 
consciousness  and  seeking  direct  communion  with  God  ?  Of 
course  the  answer  obviously  is,  do  both;  one  must  not  be 
emphasized  at  the  expense  of  the  other,  but  they  work  to- 
gether, one  is  complementary  to  the  other.  God  speaks  in 
both  ways,  and  we  only  get  His  complete  message  by  listening 
to  both  utterances.  One  of  the  articles  of  faith  in  mysticism 
is  that  the  soul  can  see  and  perceive  if  man  partakes  of  the 
divine  nature  as  far  as  possible,  and  this  seems  to  be  par- 
tially, at  least,  carried  out  in  fact. 

There  are  three  rounds  in  the  mystical  ladder:  first,  the 
purgative  life;  second,  the  illuminative  life;  and  third,  unitive 
life,  or  state  of  perfect  contemplation.  The  latter  step  is 
considered  by  some  the  goal  rather  than  a  part  of  the  proc- 
ess. Although  there  are  other  classifications,  this  scheme  is 
the  basis  of  all.  The  perfection  of  attainment  is  found  in 
the  "negative  way."  In  this,  because  God  is  infinite,  no 
finite  qualities  can  be  attributed  to  Him,  and  He  can  only  be 
described  in  negatives;  and,  further,  the  only  way  in  which 
God  can  be  known  is  to  sink  the  self  into  nothingness,  close 
the  door  of  the  senses,  insist  on  an  absence  of  definite,  sen- 
sible images,  cease  all  thought,  and  approach  God  by  ab- 

1  W.  James,  The  Varieties  0}  Religious  Experience,  pp.  346  ff.  The 
quotation  might  have  been  longer  with  additional  profit. 


32  MYSTICISM 

straction.  The  self  must  be  transcended,  and  all  reason 
must  be  abandoned,  faith  being  the  antithesis  of  reason,  not 
of  sight.  This  condition  is  known  by  some  mystics  as 
"the  state  of  death."  ' 

Many  artificial  means  were  used  to  attain  this  transcendent 
state,  and  often,  although  not  always,  it  was  a  state  of  ecstasy 
which  was  sought.  Most  mystics  had  a  definitely  formu- 
lated and  systematic  procedure.  Some  had  printed  rules, 
but  these,  the  mystic  affirmed,  were  only  for  beginners,  the 
advanced  mystic  soon  progressed  beyond  them.  Some  used 
physical  aids  and  had  rules  concerning  the  breath  and 
ascetic  practices  to  weaken  bodily  impulses.  The  senses 
were  suppressed  and  desires  were  held  in  abeyance.  Con- 
templation was  enjoined,  by  which  means  the  ego  was  to 
be  forgotten  and  must  sink  into  nothingness  in  order  to  attain 
to  the  glory  and  pleasure  of  the  one  emotional  experience. 
The  whole  secret  of  attainment  was  in  absolute  passivity: 
no  active  endeavor  could  be  put  forth,  but  patient  waiting 
in  a  state  of  emptiness  was  necessary.2 

Dionysius  the  Areopagite,  the  father  of  Christian  mys- 
ticism, leaves  the  following  instructions:  "But  thou,  O  dear 
Timothy,  by  thy  persistent  commerce  with  the  mystic  visions, 
leave  behind  sensible  perceptions  and  intellectual  efforts,  and 
all  objects  of  sense  and  of  intelligence,  and  all  things  being 
and  not  being,  and  be  raised  aloft  unknowingly  to  the  union, 
as  far  as  attainable  with  Him  Who  is  above  every  essence  and 
knowledge.  For  by  the  resistless  and  absolute  ecstasy  in  all 
purity,  from  thyself  and  all  thou  wilt  be  carried  on  high  to 
the  superessential  ray  of  the  divine  darkness,  when  thou  hast 
cast  away  all  and  become  free  from  all." 

This  goal  and   method   are   more   characteristic   of  the 

1  J.  H.  Leuba,  "The  State  of  Death:  An  Instance  of  Internal  Adapta- 
tion," American  Journal  of  Psychology,  Commemorative  Number,  1903. 

2  J.  B.  Pratt,  Psychology  oj  Religious  Belief,  pp.  103-106,  154-160. 


MYSTICISM  33 

lonely,  early  mystic  who  could  only  see  God  when  the  eye  of 
sense  was  closed;  the  more  modern  mystic  saw  God  in 
everything:  he  recognized  "the  spiritual  law  in  the  natural 
world."  Many  of  the  practices  by  which  this  state  was 
artificially  produced  were  not  necessary:  ascetic  habits 
and  the  maltreatment  of  the  body  were  not  a  true  part  of 
mysticism.  Protestants  have  abandoned  all  artificial  means 
of  elevating  the  soul  except  by  prayer,  but  the  mind- 
curers  have  reintroduced  them.  The  expulsion  of  the  outer 
sensations  which  interfere  with  concentration  upon  ideal* 
things  is  the  first  aim,  and  this  is  accomplished  by  passive 
relaxation,  concentration,  meditation,  and  auto-hypnosis. 
At  first  holy  scenes  may  be  imagined,  but  in  the  highest 
raptures  images  are  eliminated,  and  therefore  no  description 
can  be  given  of  this  highest  state.1 

The  keynote  of  all  the  mysteries  of  God  is  found  in  the 
word,  love.  Joy  and  intense  love  are  common  character- 
istics of  mysticism.  The  description  of  love  is  made  to 
include  much  not  normally  in  it,  and  rapture  and  passion 
are  known  by  this  name.  "Love  unites  the  soul  to  God, 
and  the  more  degrees  of  love  the  soul  holds,  so  much  the 
more  deeply  does  it  enter  into  God,  and  is  concentrated  into 
Him."  2  From  this  it  can  be  seen  that  the  experience,  which 
may  start  with  and  in  love,  ends  by  going  far  in  excess  of  any 
normal  experience  of  love.  The  following  canticle  composed 
by  St.  Francis  of  Assisi  shows  the  same  characteristics: 

"Into  love's  furnace  I  am  cast 
Into  love's  furnace  I  am  cast; 
I  burn,  I  languish,  pine,  and  waste. 
O  love  divine,  how  sharp  thy  dart! 
How  deep  the  wound  that  galls  my  heart! 
As  wax  in  heat,  so,  from  above 

1  W.  James,  The  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  pp.  406  ft. 

2  St.  John  of  the  Cross,  Living  Flame  oj  Love,  verse  1. 


34  MYSTICISM 

My  smitten  soul  dissolves  in  love. 
I  live,  yet  languishing  I  die, 
While  in  thy  furnace  bound  I  lie. 

In  love's  sweet  swoon  to  thee  I  cleave, 
Bless'd  source  of  love. 

Love's  slave,  in  chains  of  strong  desire 
I'm  bound. 

Grant,  O  my  God,  who  diedst  for  me, 
I,  sinful  wretch,  may  die  for  thee 
Of  love's  deep  wounds;  love  to  embrace, 
To  swim  in  its  sweet  sea;   thy  face 
To  see;   then,  joined  with  thee  above, 
Shall  I  myself  pass  into  love."  1 

This  all-embracing  love  has  its  prototype  in  the  consuming 
passion  of  the  lover  for  his  mistress,  when  all  his  thoughts, 
desires,  and  actions  centre  around  her.  In  fact,  some  of  the 
great  saints  have  seemingly  made  a  mistake  in  the  character 
of  their  love,  and  carried  on  "an  endless  amatory  flirtation" 
with  the  Deity.  Others  have  juggled  with  the  word  love  so 
as  to  make  it  mean  everything  and  therefore  nothing.  As 
an  example,  look  at  a  quotation  from  a  modern  Eastern 
writer:  "The  Sermon  on  the  Mount  is  a  series  of  lessons  on 
Love  culture  or  Soul  culture,  for  Love  is  another  word  for 
Soul."  2  Of  course,  when  once  one  begins  to  make  mystical 
and  symbolic  interpretations  of  words  and  things,  there  is  no 
dividing  line,  and  white  may  be  another  name  for  black,  and 
black  for  white.  Contradiction  is  impossible  under  such  a 
scheme,  and  each  one  is  a  law  unto  himself.  The  high 
emotional  tension  under  certain  experiences  of  love  causes 

1  Quoted  by  G.  A.  Coe,  The  Spiritual  Life,  p.  210. 

2  P.  Ramanathan,  The  Culture  of  the  Soul  among  Western  Nations, 
p.  220. 


MYSTICISM  35 

love  to  be  the  chief  factor  of  the  mystic's  experience,  and 
other  highly  emotional  states  receive  this  designation. 

Every  one  cannot  be  a  thorough-going  mystic,  although 
there  must  be  some  mystical  elements  in  every  form  of 
religion.  In  common  with  other  forms  of  religious  expres- 
sion it  is  a  matter  of  temperament,  and  in  the  mystics  the 
melancholic  and  sanguine  temperaments  predominate.  In 
churches  to-day  we  see  many  honest  persons  seeking  the 
mystical  experiences  of  which  they  have  heard  others  speak, 
but  on  account  of  a  lack  of  suggestibility  and  an  inhar- 
monious temperament  they  are  unable  to  obtain  them;  some 
even  fear  to  unite  with  a  church,  for  they  know  that  they  will 
be  unable  to  have  some  of  the  experiences  which  they  expect 
will  be  demanded  of  them.  This  type  of  character  which 
allies  itself  to  mysticism  is  passive,  sensuous,  and  essentially 
feminine,  while  the  independent,  masculine,  and  ethically 
vigorous  persons  find  it  difficult  or  impossible  to  experience 
these  things  if  they  wish,  and  they  are  not  liable  to  desire 
them.  In  those  persons  who  are  temperamentally  suscep- 
tible, there  is  an  abnormal  expansion  of  consciousness  in 
which  the  subject  is  not  able  to  distinguish  between  himself 
and  the  larger  life  into  which  he  seems  to  have  dissolved, 
and  hence  he  has  the  feeling  of  unity  with  the  Absolute. 

Some  mystics  are  essentially  lonely  and  selfish,  for  they 
are  busy  with  their  personal  experiences  rather  than  with  the 
world  around  them.  Perhaps  we  might,  however,  like  John 
of  Ruysbroek,  make  a  distinction  between  what  he  called 
true  and  false  mystics.  He  said  that  some  false  mystics  mis- 
took laziness  for  holy  abstraction,  others  thought  that  nothing 
was  denied  them,  and  a  third  class  considered  all  impulses 
divine,  and  hence  repudiated  all  responsibility.  The  mystics 
do  not  look  for  a  development  of  the  whole  man,  but,  casting 
aside  reason,  and  if  possible  consciousness,  develop  one  part 
of  the  mind,  and  they,  more  than  any  others,  try  to  dis- 


36  MYSTICISM 

entangle  the  "religious  faculty"  from  the  baser  parts  of  the 
mind — a  task,  as  I  have  tried  to  show,  as  impossible  as  un- 
desirable. The  influence  of  the  subconsciousness  in  mys- 
ticism is  very  marked.  This  dreamy  other-selfness,  so  char- 
acteristic of  the  mystic,  is  subconscious  in  character,  and  the 
various  accessories  of  mysticism,  ecstasy,  visions,  dreams, 
etc.,  we  shall  see  when  we  come  to  examine  them,  have  a 
large  subconscious  factor. 

Notwithstanding  the  excesses  and  mistakes,  mysticism  en- 
riches our  religion  and  continually  renews  it  by  personal 
experiences,  which  cannot  be  denied  or  explained  away,  and 
by  its  optimistic  attitude  leads  the  world  onward  with  an  in- 
creasing faith.  The  desire  to  be  in  harmony  with  the  divine 
will,  which  is  an  integral  part  of  mysticism,  inspires  the  true 
mystic  to  an  ethical  and  practical  religious  life  which  shows 
itself  in  altruistic  deeds.1 

1  J.  H.  Leuba,  "Tendances  fondamentales  des  mystiques  chre'tiens," 
Revue  Philosophique,  LIX,  pp.  1-36,  441-487. 


CHAPTER  IV 

ECSTASY 

"This  is  the  very  ecstasy  of  love, 
Whose  violent  property  foredoes  itself." — Shakespeare. 

The  phenomena  of  ecstasy  have  had  a  marvellous  influence 
upon  the  history  of  mankind.  They  have  inspired  the 
founding  of  religions,  both  enriched  and  degraded  religions 
already  founded,  robbed  painful  death  of  its  terrors,  and 
changed  a  peasant  girl  into  a  military  hero  beloved  and 
trusted  by  her  friends  and  feared  and  hated  by  her  enemies. 
Ecstasy  has  been  especially  prominent  in  religion,  and  is 
common  to  all  forms.  It  is  unique  in  this,  for  I  believe  there 
are  no  other  phenomena  of  which  this  can  be  predicated,  at 
least  to  the  same  extent.  Religious  ideas,  however,  do  not 
always  provide  pabulum  for  ecstatic  states,  but  any  object 
much  desired,  it  matters  little  how  trivial  or  grotesque  it  may 
be,  may  become  the  object  of  ecstasy.  Nor  are  religious 
ascetics  and  thinkers  alone  the  subjects;  artists,  philosophers, 
and  other  one-ideaed  persons  are  liable  to  have  this  ex- 
perience. While  usually  connected  with  mysticism,  ecstasy 
and  kindred  states  are  not  an  integral  part  of  it. 

The  general  characteristics  of  the  ecstatic  state  are  con- 
centration of  attention  on  one  dominant  idea  or  object,  the 
loss  of  normal  self-control,  insensibility  to  external  impres- 
sions, and  intense  emotional  excitement.  It  is  manifested  in 
various  ways  and  with  varying  degrees  of  intensity.  In  some 
cases  overpowering  joy  or  grief  is  expressed,  while  in  others 

37 


38  ECSTASY 

the  subject  is  seized  by  a  temporary  frenzy  closely  resembling 
mania.  Some  ecstatics  are  mute  and  motionless,  the  body 
rigid  and  insensible  to  external  impressions  to  such  a  degree 
that  general  sensibility  is  extinct;  no  contact  is  felt,  and 
neither  pricking  with  pins  nor  burning  with  fire  causes  pain. 
There  is  also  a  suspension  of  other  sensory  activity:  no 
sounds  are  heard,  except  in  some  cases  the  voice  of  one 
person,  and  the  eyes,  although  open,  do  not  see.  These 
symptoms  with  the  apparent  unconsciousness  resemble  very 
much  those  of  the  cataleptic  state.  There  are,  however,  two 
points  of  difference:  contrary  to  appearances,' jconsciousness 
is  not  lacking,  and  there  is  subsequent  memory  of  events  or 
visions  experienced  while  in  this  state.  '  Quite  as  often  there 
is  violent  emotional  excitement  which  manifests  itself  in 
impassioned  words  or  songs,  some  of  which  are  intelligible, 
as  the  ecstatic  describes  his  visions,  others  not;  his  phy- 
siognomy may  be  expressive,  and  extravagant  gesticulations 
and  movements  of  the  body  take  place,  although  he  may  not 
move  from  his  position. 

Ecstatic  visions  and  hallucinations  are  almost  invariably 
of  an  agreeable  nature,  and  the  subject  regrets  the  short 
duration  of  his  happiness.  The  spirit  is  supposed  to  leave 
the  body  and  frequently  to  come  in  contact  with  God  or  with 
Jesus  or  with  the  Virgin.  Such  have  been  the  experiences 
of  many  of  the  saints.  Much  less  frequently  the  ecstatic 
experiences  temptations  from  the  devil. 

At  times  this  disorder  is  highly  contagious  and  readily 
spreads  by  suggestion  and  imitation.  In  the  Middle  Ages, 
widespread  epidemics,  leading  to  the  most  extravagant 
actions  in  large  numbers,  were  experienced.  Contagious 
ecstasy  was  not,  however,  confined  to  this  time,  but  all  through 
the  centuries  and  even  at  the  present  time  we  find  startling 
exhibitions  of  this  phenomenon.  The  Dancing  Mania  of  the 
last  part  of  the  fourteenth  century  and  the  Convulsionaries 


ECSTASY  39 

of  the  first  part  of  the  eighteenth  century  are  pertinent 
examples  of  contagious  ecstasy.  * 

Resignation,  almost  to  ecstasy,  is  shown  by  certain  of  the 
saints,  and  we  may  trace  the  condition  from  this  point 
through  various  stages  until  we  reach  that  of  complete  in- 
sensibility to  all  external  impressions.  Madame  Guyon, 
frail  as  she  was  physically,  manifested  a  spiritual  absorption 
which  laughed  at  physical  danger.  She  writes:  "We  all  of 
us  came  near  perishing  in  a  river  which  we  found  it  necessary 
to  pass.  The  carriage  sank  in  the  quicksand.  Others  who 
were  with  us  threw  themselves  out  in  excessive  fright.  But 
I  found  my  thoughts  so  much  taken  up  with  God  that  I  had 
no  distinct  sense  of  danger.  It  is  true  that  the  thought  of 
being  drowned  passed  across  my  mind,  but  it  caused  no  other 
sensation  or  reflection  in  me  than  this — that  I  felt  quite  con- 
tented and  willing  it  were  so,  if  it  were  my  heavenly  Father's 
choice."  Sailing  from  Nice  to  Genoa,  a  storm  kept  her 
eleven  days  at  sea,  of  which  she  writes,  "As  the  irritated 
waves  dashed  round  us  I  could  not  help  experiencing  a  cer- 
tain degree  of  satisfaction  in  my  mind.  I  pleased  myself  with 
thinking  that  those  mutinous  billows,  under  the  command 
of  Him  who  does  all  things  rightly,  might  probably  furnish 
me  with  a  watery  grave.  Perhaps  I  carried  the  point  too  far, 
in  the  pleasure  which  I  took  in  thus  seeing  myself  beaten  and 
bandied  by  the  swelling  waters.  Those  who  were  with  me 
took  notice  of  my  intrepidity."  2 

St.  Teresa  affirms  a  similar  effect  of  ecstasy  on  both  men- 
tal and  physical  conditions.  From  her  autobiography  we 
have  the  following:  "Often,  infirm  and  wrought  upon  with 
dreadful  pains  before  the  ecstasy,  the  soul  emerges  from  it 
full  of  health  and  admirably  disposed  for  action  ...  as  if 
God  had  willed  that  the  body  itself,  already  obedient  to  the 

1  For  an  account  of  these  phenomena,  see  Chaps.  XII  and  XIII. 

2  W.  James,  The  Varieties  of  Religioiis  Experience,  p.  287. 


4o  ECSTASY 

soul's  desires,  should  share  in  the  soul's  happiness.  .  .  . 
The  soul  after  such  a  favor  is  animated  with  a  degree  of 
courage  so  great  that  if  at  that  moment  its  body  should  be 
torn  to  pieces  for  the  cause  of  God,  it  would  feel  nothing  but 
the  liveliest  comfort."  * 

The  insensibility  to  external  impressions  has  been  shown 
by  the  total  disregard  and  contempt  for  physical  suffering. 
Queen    Jezebel's   priests   mutilated   themselves   on   Mount 
Carmel  some  centuries  before  the  Christian  era,  medieval 
saints  subjected  themselves  to  unique  and  severe  torture 
which  seemed  to  produce  joy  rather  than  pain,  and  Der- 
vishes hurled  themselves  on  the  bayonets  of  British  soldiers 
in  the  Soudan,   seeing  only  paradise  for  those  who  thus 
sacrificed  themselves.     Undoubtedly  many  martyrs,  burned 
at  the  stake  or  stoned  to  death,  have  been  spared  the  suffering 
which  was  intended  for  them  and  which  seemed  inevitable,  by 
some  form  of  ecstasy.2    Blanche  Gamond,  a  Huguenot  wo- 
man persecuted  under  Louis  XIV,  exhibited  a  splendid  scorn 
for  torture.     She  writes  concerning  her  experience  as  follows : 
"They  shut  all  the  doors  and  I  saw  six  women,  each  with 
a  bunch  of  willow  rods  as  thick  as  the  hand  could  hold,  and 
a  yard  long.     He  gave  me  the  order,  'Undress  yourself,' 
which  I  did.     He  said,  'You  are  leaving  on  your  shift;  you 
must  take  it  off.'     They  had  so  little  patience  that  they  took 
it  off  themselves,  and  I  was  naked  from  the  waist  up.     They 
brought  a  cord  with  which  they  tied  me  to  a  beam  in  the 
kitchen.     They  drew  the  cord  tight  with  all  their  strength 
and  asked  me,  '  Does  it  hurt  you?'  and  then  they  discharged 
their  fury  upon  me,  exclaiming  as  they  struck  me,  '  Pray  now 
to  your  God.'     It  was  the  Roulette  woman  who  held  this 

1  W.  James,  The  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  p.  414- 

2  S.  Baring-Gould,  Virgin  Saints  and  Martyrs,  pp.  16  f}.;  G.  L.  Ray- 
mond, The  Psychology  0}  Inspiration,  p.  239;  I.  Taylor,  Fanaticism, 
p.  81  /. 


ECSTASY  41 

language.  But  at  this  moment  I  received  the  greatest  con- 
solation that  I  can  ever  receive  in  my  life,  since  I  had  the 
honor  of  being  whipped  for  the  name  of  Christ,  and  in  addi- 
tion of  being  crowned  with  his  mercy  and  his  consolations. 
Why  can  I  not  write  down  the  inconceivable  influences,  con- 
solations, and  peace  which  I  felt  interiorly  ?  To  understand 
them  one  must  have  passed  by  the  same  trial;  they  were  so 
great  that  I  was  ravished,  for  there  where  afflictions  abound, 
grace  is  given  superabundantly.  In  vain  the  women  cried, 
'We  must  double  our  blows;  she  does  not  feel  them,  for  she 
neither  speaks  nor  cries.'  And  how  should  I  have  cried, 
since  I  was  swooning  with  happiness  within?"  * 

Of  Blandina,  a  maiden  martyr  of  the  second  century,  it  is 
recorded:  "After  she  had  endured  stripes,  the  tearing  of 
beasts,  and  the  iron  chair,  she  was  enclosed  in  a  net,  and 
thrown  to  a  bull;  and,  having  been  tossed  for  some  time  by 
the  animal,  and  being  quite  superior  to  her  pain,  through  the 
influence  of  hope,  and  the  realizing  view  of  the  objects  of  her 
faith  and  her  fellowship  with  Christ,  she  at  length  breathed 
her  soul."  Stephen's  face  shone  like  that  of  an  angel  while 
he  received  the  stones  from  the  enraged  multitude;  Rogers, 
a  fellow-worker  with  Tyndale,  died  bathing  his  hands  in  the 
flame  as  though  it  were  cold  water;  and  Lawrence,  a  deacon 
of  Rome,  was  laid  upon  a  gridiron;  with  a  smile,  he  said, 
"Turn  me,  I  am  roasted  on  one  side,"  and  died  without  a 
cry  or  moan  of  pain,  as  calmly  as  if  lying  on  a  bed  of  down. 

Most  of  the  saints  revelled  in  ecstasy,  and  some  were  quite 
intemperate  in  their  indulgence.  It  is  said  that  St.  Francis 
of  Assisi,  who  partook  of  the  communion  frequently,  usu- 
ally did  so  with  ecstasies  in  which  his  soul  was  absorbed  in 
the  Infinite.  Often,  also,  when  praying,  he  fell  into  raptures. 
His  contemplation  of  the  sufferings  of  Christ,  which  was  the 
occasion  of  his  stigmata,  brought  on  weeping  so  copious  as 

1  W.  James,  The  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  pp.  288  ff. 


42  ECSTASY 

to  ruin  his  eyes.  But,  as  mentioned  above,  ecstasy  was  not 
always  of  a  strictly  religious  character.  As  an  example  of 
the  artistic  type,  it  is  said  that  Michelangelo,  at  sixty  years, 
attacked  marbles,  knocking  off  more  chips  in  two  hours  than 
younger  and  stronger  men  could  in  three  or  four,  such  was 
his  impetuosity  and  fury  in  his  work.1 

The  predisposing  cause  of  ecstasy  may  be  either  natural 
or  artificial;  the  exciting  causes  are  manifold.  There  are 
some  persons  who  are  constitutionally  liable  to  ecstatic 
states;  these  are  usually  of  a  nervous  or  hysterical  nature. 
Add  to  this,  absorbing  contemplation  upon  or  intense  long- 
ing for  some  object,  and  conditions  are  ripe  for  ecstasy. 
Except  in  the  contagious  form  which  is  liable  to  lay  claim  to 
any  one,  energy  must  be  concentrated  on  one  idea,  and  this 
idea  must  engross  the  whole  consciousness.  "The  chief  rule 
for  gaining  this  highest  stage  of  mystic  knowledge  is,  there- 
fore, not  to  try  to  gain  it.  You  guide  yourself  toward  it  best 
by  ceasing  to  guide  yourself  at  all.  Thought  and  will  are 
only  a  hindrance.  .  .  .  Those  mystics  who  have  the  most 
elaborate  methods  of  inducing  the  ecstatic  condition  are  the 
ones  who  most  strongly  insist  upon  its  independence  of  human 
will  and  human  effort.  .  .  .  Absolute  passivity  is  the  condi- 
tion of  receiving  it." 2  St.  Teresa  had  four  degrees  of 
prayer,  the  fourth  of  which  was  that  of  Rapture  or  Ecstasy.3 
"This  state  is  the  most  privileged,  because  the  most  un- 
natural of  all.  The  bodily  as  well  as  mental  powers  are 
sunk  in  a  divine  stupor.  You  can  make  no  resistance,  as 
you  may  possibly,  to  some  extent,  in  the  Prayer  of  the  Union. 
On  a  sudden  your  breath  and  strength  begin  to  fail;  the 
eyes  are  involuntarily  closed,  or,  if  open,  cannot  distinguish 
surrounding  objects;  the  hands  are  rigid;  the  whole  body  cold." 

1  F.  Granger,  The  Soul  oj  a  Christian,  p.  200  /. 

3  J.  B.  Pratt,  The  Psychology  oj  Religious  Belief,  p.  160. 

3  R.  A.  Vaughan,  Hours  with  the  Mystics,  II,  p.  168/. 


ECSTASY  43 

Both  the  religious  and  philosophical  literature  of  the 
Orient,  and  especially  is  this  true  of  India,  abound  in  pas- 
sages, extracts  from  which  would  form  a  working  manual  for 
the  artificial  attainment  of  ecstasy.  Some  of  the  suggestions 
given  are  as  follows:  keep  perfectly  quiet;  fix  the  gaze  on 
the  sky,  a  bright  object,  the  end  of  the  nose,  or  the  navel; 
repeat  a  certain  monosyllable  while  the  Supreme  Being  is 
contemplated;  retard  the  respiration;  and  refrain  from 
thinking  of  either  time  or  place.1  Some  strongly  volitional 
individuals  do  not  need  these  aids,  but,  indirectly,  by  a 
simple  act  of  will  they  are  able  to  exclude  other  things,  and 
thereby  throw  themselves  into  ecstasy.  Now,  any  one  famil- 
iar with  hypnosis  will  readily  recognize  that  these  methods 
are  exactly  what  might  be  suggested  to  bring  about  auto- 
hypnosis. 

Among  some  of  the  more  primitive  people  and  nations  of 
antiquity,  more  crass  methods  were  in  use,  such  as  the  beat- 
ing of  magic  drums,  blowing  of  trumpets,  continued  howling, 
exhausting  supplication  to  Deity,  convulsive  movements  and 
contortions,  dancing,  flagellation,  fasting,  and  sexual  con- 
tinence. I  Samuel  10:5/.  seems  to  indicate  that  musical 
instruments  were  used  for  this  purpose  among  the  early 
Hebrews.  Dervishes  acquire  an  ecstatic  state  by  dancing, 
whirling,  and  howling,  and  thereby  become  insensible  even 
to  severe  wounds.  "They  run  pointed  iron  and  sharp  knives 
into  their  heads,  eyes,  necks,  and  breasts,  without  injuring 
themselves."  2  The  Greeks  used  dancing  almost  exclusively 
as  the  agent. 

In  addition  to  these  psychical  and  physical  means,  nar- 
cotics are  used  to  bring  about  the  desired  results.  The  in- 
habitants of  Tunguska,  western  Siberia,  use  the  fly  agaric, 
a  mushroom  produced  plentifully  in  that  section;    those  of 

1  T.  Ribot,  The  Diseases  oj  the  Will,  p.  94  /. 
8  A.  Moll,  Hypnotism,  p.  42. 


44  ECSTASY 

San  Domingo,  the  herb  coca.  Some  tribes  of  American 
Indians  have  recourse  to  tobacco,  and  in  the  East,  opium  and 
haschisch  are  employed.  Among  the  ancient  Egyptians,  in- 
toxicating drinks  were  used,  and  medieval  times  have  con- 
tributed receipts  for  witch  salves  and  philtres.1 

The  following  case  is  a  modern  one;  and  shows  some  of 
the  characteristics  already  described.  "Dr.  Brown-Sequard 
relates  a  remarkable  case  of  ecstatic  catalepsy  in  a  girl  whom 
he  was  called  in  to  see.  She  lived  in  Paris,  close  to  the 
Church  of  St.  Sulpice,  and  every  Sunday  morning  at  eight 
o'clock,  when  the  bell  began  to  ring,  she  used  at  once  to 
rise  from  her  bed,  mount  the  edge  of  the  bedstead,  and  stand 
there  on  tip-toe  until  the  bell  sounded  at  eight  in  the  evening, 
when  she  returned  to  her  bed.  The  board  on  which  she  stood 
was  curved  and  polished,  and  it  would  have  been  impossible 
for  the  most  athletic  man  to  have  remained  on  it  in  such  a 
position  for  more  than  a  few  minutes  at  a  time.  While 
standing  there,  she  was  utterly  unconscious  of  her  surround- 
ings, and  continued  murmuring  prayers  to  the  Virgin  all  the 
time,  her  hands  clasped,  her  eyes  fixed,  and  head  slightly 
bent.  Some  of  the  bystanders  were  sceptical,  and  Dr. 
Brown-Sequard,  to  put  her  to  the  test,  applied  a  strong,  in- 
terrupted current  to  her  face.  She  showed  no  signs  of  pain; 
but  the  muscles  reacted  energetically,  and  her  intonation  was 
therefore  slightly  affected.  The  girl  was  weak  and  anemic, 
and  was  so  thoroughly  exhausted  by  her  Sunday  exertions, 
that  the  remainder  of  the  week  she  could  only  lie  helpless  in 
her  bed.  The  enormous  increase  in  muscular  and  nervous 
force  in  one  direction  (dynamogenesis)  was  accompanied,  as 
is  invariably  the  case,  by  inhibition  of  other  functions — in  this 
case,  those  of  higher  cerebration."2 

Similar  to  the  allied  phenomena  of  trance  and  catalepsy, 

1  E.  Parish,  Hallucinations  and  Illusions,  p.  40. 

2  C.  L.  Tuckey,  Treatment  by  Hypnotism  and  Suggestion,  p.  14  /. 


ECSTASY  45 

it  is  generally  agreed  that  ecstasy  is  more  frequent  in  women 
than  in  men,  and  with  few  exceptions  the  former  have  had 
the  most  remarkable  experiences.1  Why  ecstasy  should  take 
a  religious  coloring  in  persons  otherwise  indifferent  to  religion 
is  not  easy  to  explain.  One  explanation  has  been  given. 
Religion  is  deeply  rooted  in  the  child  mind,  even  if  disregarded 
later,  and  in  hysterical  and  somnambulistic  attacks  it  has 
been  noticed  that  early  ideas  play  a  leading  part.  Except 
when  the  vision  is  related  at  the  time,  what  the  ecstatic  ex- 
periences he  alone  can  tell.  Fortunately  he  retains  a  dis- 
tinct recollection  of  it  when  he  awakes,  else  outsiders  could 
only  surmise  concerning  it. 

There  seem  to  be  two  distinct  forms  of  ecstasy.  The  one 
is  characterized  by  wild  excitement,  loss  of  all  self-control, 
and  temporary  madness.  It  is  "a  sort  of  religious  intoxica- 
tion indulged  in  largely  for  its  delightful  effects."  This 
usually  originates  in  dancing  and  other  forms  of  physical 
manifestations.  The  other  type  is  intense,  but  quiet  and 
calm;  it  is  usually  spontaneous  in  origin,  or  else  comes 
through  mental  rather  than  physical  means.  A  certain 
amount  of  culture  is  necessary  in  persons  experiencing  this, 
and  it  shows  itself  in  solitude  rather  than  before  a  crowd,  as 
the  other  form  does.  The  former  type  is  seen  among  the 
Dervishes  and  medicine  men,  the  latter  among  the  Hebrew 
Prophets  and  Indian  mystics.2  In  both  cases  "reason  dies 
in  giving  birth  to  ecstasy,  as  Rachel  died  in  giving  birth  to 
Benjamin." 

There  are  a  number  of  states  which  are  very  similar  to 
ecstasy,  so  similar  as  to  be  indistinguishable  at  times.  These 
are  hysteria,  catalepsy,  hypnosis,  autohypnosis,  spontaneous 
somnambulism,  and  trance.  The  distinction  of  memory 
separates  it  from  hypnosis,  but  when  we  recall  that  the  events 

1  H.  Ellis,  Man  and  Woman,  p.  261. 

2  J.  B.  Pratt,  The  Psychology  0}  Religious  Belief,  pp.  99  and  147. 


sj 


46  ECSTASY 

which  take  place  during  hypnosis  are  remembered  when  a 
suggestion  is  made  to  that  effect,  autosuggestion  may  account 
for  memory  in  ecstasy.  The  devotees  of  certain  religions  or 
sects  are  undoubtedly  hypnotized  by  their  priests  before 
practising  their  rites,  and  in  other  cases  autohypnosis  is 
apparent.  The  conditions  surrounding  the  cases  cannot 
always  be  classed  under  hypnosis,  however,  although  they 
are  similar.  Especially  when  religion  is  the  controlling 
thought  in  these  cases,  the  distinction  between  them  is  quite 
marked.  I  recognize  that  the  tendency  of  to-day  is  differ- 
entiation and  division,  yet  I  believe  this  discussion  may  be 
carried  on  more  profitably  by  our  widening  the  contents  of 
the  term  "ecstasy,"  as  it  will  be  noticed  I  have  already  done, 
and  including  in  it  many  of  the  phenomena  of  autohypnosis 
and  hysteria  where  they  are  concerned  with  religion.  Ec- 
stasy may  be  clearly  distinguished  from  most  mobile  states, 
as,  e.  g.,  epilepsy,  chorea,  and  convulsions. 

"To  the  medical  mind  these  ecstasies  signify  nothing  but 
suggested  and  imitated  hypnoid  states,  on  an  intellectual  basis 
of  superstition,  and  a  corporeal  one  of  degeneration  and 
hysteria.  .  .  .  Their  fruits  have  been  various.  Stupefac- 
tion, for  one  thing,  seems  not  to  have  been  altogether  absent 
as  a  result  .  .  .  but  in  natively  strong  minds  and  characters 
we  find  quite  opposite  results.  The  great  Spanish  mystics, 
who  carried  the  habit  of  ecstasy  as  far  as  it  has  often  been 
carried,  appear  for  the  most  part  to  have  shown  indomitable 
spirit  and  energy,  and  all  the  more  so  for  the  trances  in  which 
they  indulged."  *  As  a  disease,  ecstasy  is  not  important,  for 
while  medical  remedies  may  sometimes  be  used  to  advantage, 
moral  influences  judiciously  exercised  are  more  efficacious. 

One  writer2  finds  the  psychology  of  ecstasy  simple,  con- 
sisting as  it  does  of  two  principal  factors.     The  first  is  that 

1  W.  James,  The  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  p.  413. 

2  T.  Ribot,  The  Psychology  oj  the  Emotions,  p.  326. 


ECSTASY  47 

to  which  we  have  already  referred,  the  restriction  of  the  area 
of  consciousness  to  one  intense  idea  serving  as  the  centre  of 
association,  and  the  second,  the  emotional  state  of  rapture. 
Rapture  is  denned  as  a  form  of  love  in  its  highest  degree,  with 
desire  and  the  pleasure  of  possession,  which,  like  profane 
love,  only  finds  its  end  in  complete  fusion  and  unification. 
The  great  mystics  leave  us  in  no  doubt  on  this  latter  point, 
even  though  their  declarations  may  be  veiled  in  metaphors; 
and  their  critics,  of  all  classes,  have  frequently,  with  much 
justice,  reproached  them  with  being  mistaken  in  the  nature 
of  their  love.  But  we  must  add  another  factor,  viz.,  the 
activity  of  the  subconsciousness.  While  the  subject  is  suffi- 
ciently under  the  control  of  consciousness  to  remember  his 
experiences  when  he  awakes,  it  is  evident  from  phenomena 
like  glossolalia  and  visions,  that  the  subconsciousness  plays  a 
large  part  in  the  process.  The  intensity  of  the  one-absorbing 
state  of  consciousness  is  such  as  to  attenuate  and  enfeeble 
the  other  conscious  states,  and  while  these  still  remain  in 
connection  with  the  primary  state,  they  give  the  subcon- 
sciousness an  opportunity  to  assert  itself  and  push  into  con- 
sciousness. 

The  foregoing  has  been  an  attempt  to  give  a  general 
description  of  ecstasy.  It  remains  now  to  speak  of  various 
ecstatic  phenomena  more  in  detail,  and  such  will  be  done  in 
the  following  chapters.  It  may  be  well  at  this  point  to  call 
attention  to  one  thing  to  prevent  misinterpretation.  There 
is  nothing  good  or  bad  in  ecstasy  in  itself.  In  times  past  it 
has  been  adjudged  as  the  condition  of  sainthood,  or  the  work 
of  the  devil,  by  the  subject's  friends  and  enemies,  respectively. 
We  must  escape  this  error.  In  these  days  we  do  not  consider 
everything  mysterious  to  be  of  divine  origin,  and  everything 
common  to  be  separated  from  the  hand  of  God;  this  distinc- 
tion is  obsolete.  On  the  other  hand,  we  should  not  esteem 
abnormal   phenomena   worthless.     Simply    classifying   any 


48  ECSTASY 

experience  of  to-day  or  in  New  Testament  times  under  the 
head  of  ecstasy  is  neither  condemning  nor  extolling  it.  We 
believe  in  the  revelation  of  God  through  the  higher  faculties 
to-day;  that  does  not  mean  that  we  ignore  what  may  come 
to  us  in  these  abnormal  states.  We  must  judge  the  gift, 
not  by  the  name  of  the  horse  which  drew  it,  but  by  its  value 
after  we  receive  it.  With  this  clear  before  us,  let  us  turn  our 
attention  to  certain  ecstatic  phenomena. 


CHAPTER  V 

GLOSSOLALIA 

"His  speech  was  like  a  tangled  chain;    nothing  impaired  but  all  dis- 
ordered."— Shakespeare. 

What  is  meant  by  the  phenomenon  "speaking  with 
tongues"  is  not  clear  to  us  to-day,  and  evidently,  if  we  can 
judge  by  the  different  New  Testament  accounts,  in  the  first 
century  there  was  no  unanimity  of  opinion  concerning  either 
the  value  or  the  definition  of  the  marvel.  The  general  under- 
standing of  this  term  is  that  taken  from  a  superficial  reading 
of  the  second  chapter  of  The  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  viz.,  that 
illiterate  Galileans  spoke  in  many  different  foreign  languages 
without  previous  training.  St.  Chrysostom  and  St.  Augustine 
insisted  that  "the  miracle  of  Pentecost  is  the  antithesis  of 
the  confusion  of  tongues  at  Babel.  There  the  one  language 
had  been  divided  into  many;  here  the  many  languages  were 
united  in  one  man."  There  is  not  the  slightest  evidence  for 
this.  The  hearers  were  expressly  designated  as  Jews,  and 
the  enumeration  given  was  not  of  languages  but  of  countries. 
The  most  that  can  possibly  be  taken  from  this  account,  as 
far  as  the  apostles  are  concerned,  is  that  the  differences  of 
dialect,  of  Greek  or  Aramaic,  were  eliminated,  and  the  won- 
der is  that  this  should  be  so  when  the  speakers,  were  Galileans, 
who  would  naturally  be  supposed  to  have  such  a  pronounced 
dialect.1 

lA.  Robertson,  "Tongues,  Gift  of,"  Hastings'  Bible  Dictionary,  IV, 
PP-  793  ft- 5  see  also  J-  Denney,  "Holy  Spirit,"  Hastings'  Dictionary 
of  Christ  and  the  Gospels,  I,  p.  737;  T.   Nicol,  "Pentecost,"  Ibid.,  II, 

P-  333- 

49 


5o  GLOSSOLALIA 

A  more  careful  reading  of  the  passage  will  show  that  Luke 
seems  to  affirm  that  the  miracle  did  not  lie  in  the  tongues  of 
the  speakers,  but  in  the  ears  of  the  hearers.  One  prominent 
modern  historian  *  has  accepted  this  view.  He  thinks  that 
although  the  apostles  spoke  in  unintelligible  ecstatic  utter- 
ances, the  Spirit  interpreted  to  those  present,  each  one  of 
whom  thought  he  heard  in  his  own  language.  Certainly  the 
claim  that  the  apostles  received  this  gift  so  as  to  enable  them, 
unlettered  as  they  were,  to  speak  to  the  different  nations  to 
which  they  had  been  sent,  does  not  seem  to  be  a  valid  one, 
for  we  never  hear  of  their  using  it  in  missionary  work,  and 
the  prevalence  of  the  Greek  language  made  this  entirely 
unnecessary.  Peter  does  not  refer  to  the  use  of  a  foreign 
language  when  he  defends  the  disciples  on  a  charge  of 
drunkenness,  although  that  would  have  been  a  valuable 
argument. 

One  commentator 2  goes  so  far  as  to  say  that  "the  sudden 
communication  of  a  faculty  of  speaking  foreign  languages  is 
neither  logically  possible  nor  psychologically  and  morally 
conceivable."  Luke  does  not  even  seem  to  be  consistent 
with  himself,  for  in  the  two  other  references  to  glossolalia  he 
evidently  refers  to  the  same  phenomena  which  Paul  describes. 
It  has  been  suggested  that  perhaps  the  glamour  surrounding 
the  early  church  and  the  influence  of  the  attendant  wonders 
— the  wind  and  the  tongues  of  fire — account  for  his  mis- 
understanding of  the  first  appearance  of  this  gift. 

Paul's  reference  to  tongues  in  the  fourteenth  chapter  of 
First  Corinthians  is  very  different  from  Luke's  description 
of  the  Pentecostal  experience.  It  is  evident  that  he  consid- 
ered the  gift  of  tongues  for  use  in  worship  by  the  individual, 
or  for  his  own  edification,  and  not  for  the  instruction  of  the 
hearers,  for  the  latter  could  not  understand  these  utterances 

1  P.  Schaff,  History  0}  the  Christian  Church,  I,  p.  60. 
8  H.  A.  W.  Meyer,  Commentary  on  Acts,  2:4. 


GLOSSOLALIA  51 

without  an  interpreter.  In  his  enumeration  of  spiritual  gifts 
in  the  twelfth  chapter  of  First  Corinthians,  he  puts  tongues 
in  the  last  place.  "Though  they  might  speak  with  the 
tongues  of  men  and  of  angels,  if  they  were  without  that  love 
which  does  not  behave  itself  unseemly,  they  were  only  sound- 
ing brass  or  a  clanging  cymbal."  He  compares  the  gift  of 
tongues  to  the  notes  of  a  pipe  or  harp,  without  distinction  of 
sounds,  and  goes  so  far  as  to  say  that  he  would  rather  speak 
five  words  with  his  understanding  that  he  might  instruct 
others  than  ten  thousand  words  in  a  tongue.  In  his  ex- 
perience, people  were  not  hearing  in  their  own  languages, 
but  just  the  opposite;  no  one  could  understand  a  word. 

Paul's  description  of  the  gift  has  been  thus  epitomized: 
"It  was  evidently  frenzied  or  ecstatic  utterances  of  sounds 
ordinarily  unintelligible  both  to  speakers  and  to  hearers, 
except  such  as  might  be  endowed  by  the  Holy  Spirit  with  a 
special  gift  of  interpretation.  The  speaker  was  supposed  to 
be  completely  under  the  control  of  the  Spirit,  to  be  a  mere 
passive  instrument  in  His  hands,  and  to  be  moved  and 
played  upon  by  Him.  His  utterances  were  not  his  own, 
but  the  utterances  of  the  Spirit,  and  he  was  commonly  entirely 
unconscious  of  what  he  was  saying."  *  The  gift  was  con- 
sidered most  spiritual  because  the  speaker  had  less  control 
of  himself,  but  its  real  value  must  be  computed  by  its  worth 
to  others.  Although  it  was  the  most  showy  of  all  gifts,  it 
was  of  little  value  and  must  not  be  exercised,  said  the  apostle, 
unless  an  interpreter  were  present.  The  words  were  divine 
and  not  human,  and  had  evidently  no  relation  to  any  human 
tongue,  so  that  the  speaker  was  thought  to  be  demented.  It 
is  really  a  high  testimony  to  Paul's  common  sense,  mystic  as 
he  was,  that  in  those  days,  when  every  one  extolled  the 
abnormal  and  regarded  it  as  "spiritual,"  he  had  sufficient 
perspicacity  to  determine  the  insignificant  value  of  glossolalia. 

1  A.  C.  McGiffert,  The  Apostolic  Age,  p.  50  /. 


K2 


GLOSSOLALIA 


Had  the  gift  of  tongues  changed  in  character  within  half  a 
century,  were  there  two  different  phenomena  included  under 
the  same  term,  or  was  either  Luke  or  Paul  mistaken  in  his 
description  ? 

The  generally  accepted  modern  view  of  this  phenomenon 
is  that  it  was  ecstatic,  and  the  result  of  the  dominance  of  the 
lower  brain-centres  under  great  excitement,  which  caused  a 
lack  of  self-control.  It  was  especially  to  be  seen  among 
ignorant  and  highly  excitable  individuals,  as  an  expression 
of  joy  and  gladness.  "The  subjects  are,  usually,  devout  but 
unlearned  and  ignorant  people  who  lack  power  of  expression 
of  the  emotions  which  crowd  upon  them  in  seasons  of  great 
religious  excitement.  Under  the  pressure  of  overwrought 
mental  condition,  rational  control  takes  its  flight,  and  the 
overheated  brain  breaks  forth  in  articulations  more  or  less 
unconscious,  including  odds  and  ends  of  languages  and 
dialects  with  which  the  mind  of  the  individual  has  become 
somewhat  familiar."  *  "This  fervor  vented  itself  in  expres- 
sions of  thanksgiving,  in  fragments  of  psalmody,  or  hymnody, 
or  prayer,  which  to  the  speaker  himself  conveyed  an  irresis- 
tible sense  of  communion  with  God,  and  to  the  bystander  an 
impression  of  some  extraordinary  manifestation  of  power; 
but  not  necessarily  any  instruction  or  teaching,  and  some- 
times even  having  the  appearance  of  wild  excitement  like 
that  of  madness  or  intoxication."  2 

Now,  experiences  of  this  kind  are  not  confined  to  primitive 
Christianity  nor  to  the  early  centuries  of  this  era.  One 
recent  account  describes  a  visit  made  to  some  mystics  who, 
in  their  meeting,  exhibited  at  first  motor  automatism,  fol- 
lowed by  semi-prophetic  utterances,  ending  with  speaking 
with  tongues  and  a  translation  of  the  same.     The  tongues 

1  F.  M.  Davenport,  Primitive  Traits  in  Religious  Revivals,  p.  237. 

2  A.  Wright,  Some  New  Testament  Problems,  p.  284,  quoting  Stanley's 
commentary  on  I  Cor. 


GLOSSOLALIA  53 

consisted  of  an  incomprehensible  jargon  with  no  resemblance 
to  any  known  language  but  English,  the  native  tongue.1 

The  best  modern  examples  have  been  among  the  Irving- 
ites,  or,  as  they  are  properly  designated,  The  Catholic 
Apostolic  Church.  About  1830  the  gift  of  tongues  was  re- 
ported from  the  West  of  Scotland,  and  later  in  the  Scotch 
church  of  the  Rev.  Edward  Irving  in  London.  Mr.  Irving 
had  been  giving  some  lectures  on  spiritual  gifts,  and  the 
observed  phenomena  seemed  to  confirm  his  contentions  that 
these  gifts  were  not  to  be  confined  to  the  primitive  church. 
The  speaking  with  tongues  bore  no  resemblance  to  any  known 
language  but  was  believed  to  be  strictly  an  unknown  tongue, 
the  Holy  Spirit  "using  the  tongue  of  man  in  a  manner  which 
neither  his  own  intellect  could  dictate,  nor  that  of  any  other 
man  comprehend." 

Among  the  early  Mormons,  fanaticism  showed  itself  in 
glossolalia.  One  witness  says:  "Many  would  have  fits  of 
speaking  all  the  different  Indian  dialects,  which  none  could 
understand." 2  Another  witness  describes  the  phenomena 
as  follows:  "Those  who  speak  in  tongues  are  generally  the 
most  illiterate  among  the  'saints,'  such  as  cannot  command 
words  as  quick  as  they  would  wish,  and  instead  of  waiting 
for  a  suitable  word  to  come  to  their  memories  they  break 
forth  in  the  first  sound  their  tongues  can  articulate,  no  matter 
what  it  is.  Thus  some  person  in  the  meeting  has  told  an 
interesting  story  about  Zion,  then  an  excitable  brother  gets 
up  to  bear  his  'testimony,'  the  speed  of  speech  increasing 
with  the  interest  of  the  subject:  'Beloved  brethren  and  sis- 
ters, I  rejoice,  and  my  heart  is  glad  to  overflowing — I  hope 

1  A.  LeBarron,  "A  Case  of  Psychic  Automatism,"  including  "Speak- 
ing with  Tongues,"  Proceedings  Society  for  Psychical  Research,  XII 
pp.  277-297. 

2  The  italics  are  mine.  Ezra  Booth's  letters  to  Rev.  Ira  Eddy  from 
Nelson,  Ohio,  Sept.,  1831,  published  in  the  Ohio  Star,  quoted  by  I.  W. 
Riley,  The  Founder  of  Mormonism,  p.  263. 


54  GLOSSOLALIA 

to  go  to  Zion,  and  to  see  you  all  there,  and  to—to— 0,  me 
sontro  von  te,  sontro  von  terre,  sontro  von  te.  O,  me  palassate 
te,  etc.' "  '  In  this  early  glossolalia  among  the  Mormons  some 
critical  listeners  distinguished  some  snatches  of  Indian  dialects. 

Evidently  glossolalia  is  not  a  distinctive  gift  of  saints. 
Notice  the  following:  "There  are  also  kwei  (demons)  of 
the  quiet  sort  who  talk  and  laugh  like  other  people,  only 
that  the  voice  is  changed.  Some  have  a  voice  like  a  bird. 
Some  speak  Mandarin,  and  some  the  local  dialect.  .  .  . 
Mandarin  is  the  spoken  language  of  the  northern  provinces 
of  China,  and  is  quite  different  from  the  language  of  the 
province  of  Fukien  from  which  this  communication  comes."  2 
Many  other  examples  of  glossolalia  might  be  cited  from  the 
histories  of  the  Franciscans  of  the  thirteenth  century,  the  early 
Quakers,  and  Methodists,  but  these  will  suffice  to  show  the 
character  of  the  phenomena  according  to  this  view.  While 
there  was  undoubtedly  some  simulation  in  groups  employed 
in  this  form  of  religious  exercise,  most  of  it  must  be  classed  as 
genuine  ecstasy  and  studied  from  this  standpoint. 

Another  explanation  comes  in  a  late  work.3  The  writer 
affirms  that,  according  to  the  old  view  of  glossolalia,  inter- 
pretation was  not  necessary,  and  according  to  the  new  view 
interpretation  was  impossible.  His  theory  is  intended  to 
harmonize  the  accounts  of  Luke  and  Paul,  and  to  provide  a 
place  for  interpretation.  The  modern  view,  he  says,  does 
not  account  for  the  words  of  Luke,  "Are  not  all  these  that 
speak  Galileans!  And  how  hear  we  them  every  one  in  his 
own  language,  wherein  we  were  born?',  Accordingly  he 
opines  that  the  utterances  were  spoken  in  ecstasy,  in  harmony 

1  S.  Hawthornthwaite,  Adventures  Among  the  Mormons,  pp.  88-91, 
quoted  by  I.  W.  Riley,  The  Founder  of  Mormonism,  p.  270. 

a  J.  L.  Nevius,  Demon  Possession  and  Allied  Themes,  pp.  46  ft.,  see 
also  pp.  58,  115,  and  145. 

3  A  Wright,  Some  New  Testament  Problems,  Chap.  XVIII,  pp.  277- 

3°i- 


GLOSSOLALIA  55 

with  the  modern  view,  but  were  really  other  languages.  The 
speaker  did  not  know  the  language  and  was  unconscious  of 
what  he  was  saying,  and  when  the  ecstasy  was  over  he  did 
not  remember  what  he  had  said. 

He  accounts  for  this  in  a  rational  manner,  by  the  well- 
known  phenomena  of  the  abnormally  exalted  memory  in 
certain  ecstatic  cases.  We  are  all  familiar  with  the  well- 
known  case  narrated  by  Coleridge,  of  the  illiterate  serving- 
maid,  who  in  the  delirium  of  fever  recited  long  passages 
of  Latin,  Greek,  and  Hebrew  which  she  had  heard  her 
former  employer  recite  when  she  was  attending  to  her 
household  duties,  but  which  she  hardly  noticed  and  had  not 
thought  of  trying  to  remember. 

Another  thoroughly  investigated  case  might  be  cited.  In 
1853  there  were  some  alleged  cases  of  demoniacal  possession 
in  a  French  village  on  the  borders  of  Switzerland.  Among 
other  phenomena  the  afflicted  were  said  to  have  experienced 
the  gift  of  tongues,  speaking  in  German  and  Latin  and  even 
in  Arabic.  Professor  Tissot,  an  eminent  member  of  the  medi- 
cal faculty  of  Dijon,  visited  the  village  and  made  a  series  of 
researches  of  which  he  afterward  published  a  full  account. 
Concerning  the  gift  of  tongues  his  conclusions  were  as  fol- 
lows: "As  to  German  and  Latin  no  great  difficulty  was  pre- 
sented; it  was  by  no  means  hard  to  suppose  that  some  of  the 
girls  might  have  learned  some  words  of  the  former  language  in 
the  neighboring  Swiss  Canton,  where  German  was  spoken,  or 
even  in  Germany  itself;  and  as  to  Latin,  considering  that  they 
had  heard  it  from  their  childhood  in  the  church,  there  seemed 
nothing  very  wonderful  in  their  uttering  some  words  in  that 
language  also."  l  There  was  no  evidence  that  Arabic  was 
really   spoken.     This  explanation  would  come   under   the 

1  A.  D.  White,  "Diabolism  and  Hysteria,"  Popular  Science  Monthly, 
June,  1889;  A  History  0}  the  Warfare  0}  Science  with  Theology,  pp. 
159  #• 


56  GLOSSOLALIA 

caption  of  exalted  memory.  Hypermnesia  is  common  to 
many  abnormal  states.  An  English  officer  in  Africa  was 
hypnotized  and  suddenly  began  to  speak  a  strange  language. 
This  proved  to  be  Welsh,  which  he  had  learned  as  a  child  and 
forgotten.1 

Perhaps  a  better  illustration  would  be  the  experiences  of 
The  Little  Prophets  of  the  Cevennes,2  for  in  them  we  have 
exalted  memory  of  ecstasy.  From  1688  to  1701,  about  six 
hundred  were  affected  by  this  strange  disorder,  most  of  whom 
were  children.  They  would  first  swoon  and  become  insensi- 
ble to  all  sense  impressions.  Then,  although  they  did  not 
know  French,  children  of  three  years  of  age  and  older  would 
preach  sermons  three-quarters  of  an  hour  long,  in  correct 
French,  with  proper  emphasis  and  gestures.  They  could 
not  be  stopped  when  once  started,  and  they  continued  in  this 
abnormal  state  until  they  finished.  Inherited  memory  was 
the  explanation  given  of  this  extraordinary  experience. 

Inherited  memory,  which  explanation  leads  us  into  more 
difficulty  than  the  original  problem  causes,  is  presented  as 
the  solution  of  another  case  of  the  gift  of  tongues.  "In  cer- 
tain abnormal  and  highly  excited  states  of  the  nervous  system, 
as  is  proved  by  abundant  facts,  matters  impressed  deep  on 
the  memory  of  a  father  present  themselves  to  the  conscious- 
ness of  his  posterity.  I  have  no  doubt,  for  instance,  that  the 
daughter  of  Judge  Edmonds  derives  her  capacity  to  speak, 
in  the  trance  state,  in  languages  unfamiliar  to  her  in  the 
ordinary  moods  of  consciousness,  from  her  father's  studies 
in  that  direction,  or  rather,  from  the  nervous  habit  engendered 
by  those  studies."  3  The  transference  of  acquired  character- 
istics presents  no  difficulty  to  a  writer  of  this  kind. 

1  A.  Moll,  Hypnotism,  p.  142  /. 

2R.  Heath,  "The  Little  Prophets  of  the  Cevennes,"  Contemporary 
Review,  Jan.,  1886. 
3  F.  G.  Fairfield,  Ten  Years  tenth  Spiritual  Mediums. 


GLOSSOLALIA  57 

According  to  Wright's  theory  of  glossolalia,  the  explana- 
tion of  inherited  memory  is  not  necessary,  but  that  of  greatly 
exalted  memory  is,  for  the  apostles  would  have  to  remember 
the  language  heard  incidentally  in  the  market  place  or  on 
the  street,  and  be  able  to  reconstruct  it  into  a  message. 

So-called  speaking  with  tongues  has  appeared  as  a  con- 
temporary religious  mania.  A  recent  revival  in  Sweden  has 
been  followed  by  another  awakening  accompanied,  according 
to  the  claim,  by  a  genuine  gift  of  tongues.  Ecstasy  was  ex- 
perienced, and  the  ecstatics  began  to  speak  with  "strange 
tongues."  In  America,  however,  it  seems  to  have  flourished 
best  as  a  modern  movement,  and  has  come  usually  in  the 
excitement  of  revival  meetings.  These  manifestations  have 
taken  the  form  of  articulate  but  unintelligible  utterances. 
The  reported  cases  of  genuine  languages  having  been  spoken 
have  not  been  authenticated.  The  "Apostolic  Faith  Move- 
ment," which  started  in  Kansas  in  1900,  has  received  some  ap- 
parently coveted  fame  on  account  of  this  kind  of  manifestation, 
but  other  sects  have  had  similar  experiences.  The  adherents 
to  this  movement  claim  that  speaking  with  tongues  is  the  only 
Bible  evidence  of  the  baptism  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  Those  who 
claim  to  have  received  this  gift  say  that  "the  Spirit  takes 
possession  of  their  vocal  organs  and  uses  them  as  he  wills, 
while  their  minds  are  at  rest.  They  say  they  are  conscious 
that  their  vocal  organs  are  being  used,  but  do  not  know  how, 
nor  do  they  know  what  they  are  saying.  They  have  no 
power  to  stop  speaking  when  once  the  Spirit  possesses  them. 
In  the  meeting  I  attended  two  women  who  were  thus  wrought 
upon.  One  remained  in  that  condition  four  or  five  minutes; 
the  other  but  a  few  seconds.  The  first  indication  I  had  of 
anything  out  of  the  ordinary  was  a  low  muttering  sound 
without  articulation.  This  muttering  lasted  but  a  few  sec- 
onds, then  the  voice  raised  to  a  more  natural  tone  and  volume, 
and  it  would  be  hard  to  imagine  how  a  more  rapid  succes- 


58  GLOSSOLALIA 

sion  of  sounds  could  come  from  the  mouth  of  a  human 
being.  For  the  most  part,  these  sounds  appeared  to  be 
articulate,  but  if  she  spoke  a  language  no  one  knew  it.  She 
herself  knew  not  the  meaning  of  any  sound  she  made."  l 

Something  very  similar  to  this  in  exaltation  of  memory  and 
power  of  speech,  although  not  using  another  nor  a  foreign 
language,  is  found  in  an  account  of  some  "sleeping"  preach- 
ers.    The  whole  power  of  the  mind  seems  to  have  been 
heightened.     In  London,  in  1815,  there  appeared  a  book 
entitled  Remarkable  Sermons  by  Rachel  Baker,  and  Pious 
Ejaculations,  Delivered  During  Sleep,  by  Dr.  Mitchell,  M.D., 
Professor  of  Physic,  the  late  Dr.  Priestly,  LL.D.,  and  Dr. 
Douglass.     On  the  title-page  of  the  book  are  the  following 
words,  ''Several  hundreds  every  evening  flock  to  hear  this 
most  wonderful  Preacher,  who  is  instrumental  in  converting 
more  persons  to  Christianity,  when  asleep,  than  all  other 
ministers    together    whilst    awake."     This    book    gives    an 
account  of  a  girl  who  was  born  at  Pelham,  Mass.,  in  1794. 
At  the  age  of  seventeen  she  became  a  religious  melancholic, 
and  later  in  the  same  year  she  fell  into  a  trance  and  talked 
about  her  fear  of  hell.     This  continued  for  two  months,  at 
the  end  of  which  time  she  seemed  to  be  converted  and  her 
mind  was  calmed.     From  this  time  on  she  began  to  preach 
and  to  pray  in  her  trances,  in  such  a  manner  that  those  who 
knew  her  well  declared  that  her  readiness  and  fluency  far 
exceeded  her  waking  state.     Her  trances  occurred  almost 
every  evening  and  lasted  for  forty-five  minutes,  beginning 
and  ending  with  slight  epileptiform  symptoms,  and  passing 
off  into  natural  sleep  for  the  rest  of  the  night.     When  she 
awoke  she  was  unable  to  remember  anything  that  had  taken 
place  during  her  trance.     There  were  no  other  morbid  symp- 
toms connected  with  her  case.     In  this  book  two  other  cases 

1  S.  A.  Manwell,  "Apostolic  Faith  Movement,"  The  Wesleyan  Meth- 
odist, Feb.  20,  1907. 


GLOSSOLALIA  59 

of  "sleeping  preachers"  are  recorded,  viz.,  Job  Cooper,  a 
Pennsylvania  weaver,  in  1774,  and  Joseph  Payne,  a  sixteen- 
year-old  boy,  at  Reading,  England,  in  1759. 

There  seems  to  be  little  doubt  of  the  ecstatic  character  of 
the  utterances  in  glossolalia,  and  notwithstanding  the  inge- 
nuity of  Wright's  theory  it  seems  beyond  the  range  of  prob- 
ability, if  not  possibility,  that  exalted  memory  to  such  an 
extraordinary  degree  could  become  so  common.  The  cases 
of  exalted  memory  approaching  this  that  have  been  care- 
fully and  scientifically  examined  so  as  to  preclude  imposture 
have  been  isolated  cases,  and  very  few  in  number.  There 
seems  to  be  no  better  solution  than  to  follow  Paul  and  ex- 
clude Luke's  Pentecostal  narrative.  In  doing  this  we 
espouse  the  modern  view  of  the  subject. 


CHAPTER  VI 

VISIONS 

"This  is  a  most  majestic  vision  and  harmonious  charming." 

— Shakespeare. 

Similar  to  the  gift  of  tongues,  the  vision  is  sometimes  an 
important  factor  in  ecstasy.  The  legendary  lore  and  sacred 
books  of  all  peoples  teem  with  accounts  of  revelations  given 
in  visions.  Among  primitive  people  visions  and  dreams  of 
persons,  dead  or  alive,  probably  gave  the  first  suggestion  of  a 
soul  apart  from  the  body;  for  the  savage  considered  that  he 
really  saw  a  person  whom  he  knew,  if  alive,  to  be  elsewhere, 
and  if  dead,  to  be  unable  to  do  the  things  which  the  vision 
or  dream  portrayed.1 

In  the  Old  Testament,  visions  did  not  play  so  important  a 
part  in  prophecy  as  there  is  a  disposition  to  attribute  to  them, 
yet  their  influence  was  not  inconsiderable.  The  prophet's 
condition  was  more  frequently  that  of  the  mystic  than  the 
ecstatic,  so  that  what  he  sometimes  called  a  vision  was  purely 
a  literary  garb  for  the  revelation,  or  merely  verbal  messages 
which  he  gave.  However,  the  prophets  always  regarded 
their  visions  and  dreams  as  something  objective  in  the  sense 
that  they  were  caused  by  God  and  were  a  revelation  from  Him, 
because  the  presentation  did  not  come  through  ordinary  chan- 
nels.2   No  attempt  was  made  to  analyze  them,  they  were 

1  E.  B.  Tylor,  Anthropology,  pp.  343  fj. 

*A.  B.  Davidson,  "Prophecy  and  Prophets,"  Hastings'  Bible  Diction- 
ary, IV,  p.  115. 

60 


VISIONS  61 

accepted  at  face  value.  The  phenomena  did  not  end  with  the 
Old  Testament  dispensation,  nor  were  they  later  confined  to 
primitive  people,  but  the  early  church  was  guided  to  a  certain 
extent  by  them  and  the  mediaeval  church  thrived  on  them. 
To-day,  although  they  occur,  the  small  consideration  which 
they  receive  tends  to  discourage  them,  or  if  they  are  ex- 
perienced they  may  never  be  related. 

Some  of  the  most  famous  names  in  history,  especially  in 
the  history  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  have  attained 
prominence  either  through  the  visions  which  they  have  ex- 
perienced or  through  the  deeds  which  visions  have  inspired. 
They  tell  with  rapture  of  the  wonderful  visions  vouchsafed 
to  them  and  of  the  conversations  which  they  were  privileged 
to  hold  with  angelic  visitors.  Indeed,  visions,  at  times,  seem 
to  have  been  a  short  cut  to  sanctification  and  divine  favor. 
St.  Teresa,  who  seems  to  have  had  much  experience  in  this 
form  of  religious  exercise,  speaks  as  follows  in  her  auto- 
biography : 

"Like  imperfect  sleep,  which,  instead  of  giving  more 
strength  to  the  head,  doth  but  leave  it  the  more  exhausted,  the 
result  of  mere  operations  of  the  imagination  is  but  to  weaken 
the  soul.  Instead  of  nourishment  and  energy  she  reaps  only 
lassitude  and  disgust:  whereas  a  genuine  heavenly  vision 
yields  to  her  a  harvest  of  ineffable  spiritual  riches  and  an 
admirable  renewal  of  bodily  strength.  I  alleged  these 
reasons  to  those  who  so  often  accused  my  visions  of  being 
the  work  of  the  enemy  of  mankind  and  the  sport  of  my 
imagination.  ...  I  shewed  them  the  jewels  which  the 
divine  hand  had  left  with  me:— they  were  my  actual  dis- 
positions. All  those  who  knew  me  saw  that  I  was  changed; 
my  confessor  bore  witness  to  the  fact;  this  improvement, 
palpable  in  all  respects,  far  from  being  hidden,  was  bril- 
liantly evident  to  all  men.  As  for  myself,  it  was  impossible 
to  believe  that  if  the  demon  was  its  author,  he  could  have 


62  VISIONS 

used,  in  order  to  lose  me  and  lead  me  to  hell,  an  expedient 
so  contrary  to  his  own  interests  as  that  of  uprooting  my  vices, 
and  filling  me  with  masculine  courage  and  other  virtues 
instead,  for  I  saw  clearly  that  a  single  one  of  these  visions  was 
enough  to  enrich  me  with  all  that  wealth."  1 

The  form  which  visions  may  take  depends  on  the  mental 
condition  and  contents  of  the  individual  experiencing  them. 
That  perfectly  sane  people  often  have  them  there  is  no  doubt. 
St.  Paul  considered  the  one  which  he  received  at  the  time  of 
his  conversion  as  an  unique  favour  which  conferred  upon  him 
the  apostolic  prerogative  of  an  eye-witness.2  But  this  was 
not  his  only  experience :  later  he  refers  to  having  been  caught 
up  into  the  third  heaven.  Shortly  before  the  victory  of  Con- 
stantine  over  Maxentius,  the  former  asserted  that  he  saw  at 
noonday  the  vision  of  a  flaming  cross  in  the  sky  on  which  was 
the  inscription  in  Greek,  "By  this  conquer."  It  was,  per- 
haps, an  optical  illusion,  the  effect  of  a  parhelion  beheld  in  the 
moment  of  the  crisis  of  his  destiny  when  he  was  greatly  ex- 
cited. He  found  it  very  useful,  however,  and  adopted  the 
standard  of  the  cross  as  the  banner  at  the  head  of  his  armies.3 

Visions  were,  indeed,  no  invention  of  the  mystics,  but  were 
of  practical  value  to  the  percipients,  and  were  a  common 
phenomenon  in  the  early  and  middle  ages.  "They  played 
a  much  more  important  part  in  the  life  of  the  early  church 
than  many  ecclesiastical  historians  are  willing  to  admit. 
Tertullian,  for  instance,  says  calmly,  'The  majority,  almost, 
of  men  learn  God  from  visions.'  Such  implicit  reliance  was 
placed  on  the  divine  authority  of  visions,  that  on  one  occa- 
sion an  ignorant  peasant  and  a  married  man  was  made 
Patriarch  of  Alexandria  against  his  will,  because  his  dying 

1  Quoted  by  W.  James,  The  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  p.  21. 
3C.  D.  Royse,  "The  Psychology  of  Saul's  Conversion,"  American 
Journal  of  Religious  Psychology  and  Education,  I,  pp.  149  ff- 
*  G.  P.  Fisher,  History  of  the  Christian  Church,  p.  88. 


VISIONS  63 

predecessor  had  a  vision  that  the  man  who  should  bring  him 
a  present  of  grapes  on  the  next  day  should  be  his  successor! 
In  course  of  time  visions  became  rarer  among  the  laity,  but 
continued  frequent  among  the  monks  and  clergy."  l 

Among  the  hermits  of  the  early  church  visions  were 
especially  common.  Of  these  Lecky  says:  "All  the  elements 
of  hallucination  were  there.  Ignorant  and  superstitious, 
believing  as  a  matter  of  religious  conviction  that  countless 
demons  filled  the  air,  attributing  every  fluctuation  of  his  tem- 
perament, and  every  exceptional  phenomenon  in  surrounding 
nature,  to  spiritual  agency;  delirious,  too,  from  solitude  and 
long-continued  austerities,  the  hermit  soon  mistook  for  pal- 
pable realities  the  phantoms  of  his  brain.  In  the  ghastly 
gloom  of  the  sepulchre,  where,  amid  mouldering  corpses,  he 
took  up  his  abode;  in  the  long  hours  of  the  night  penance, 
where  the  desert  wind  sobbed  around  his  lonely  cell,  and  the 
cries  of  wild  beasts  were  borne  upon  his  ears,  visible  forms  of 
lust  or  terror  appeared  to  haunt  him,  and  strange  dramas 
were  enacted  by  those  who  were  contending  for  his  soul.  An 
imagination  strained  to  the  utmost  limit,  acting  upon  a  frame 
attenuated  and  diseased  by  macerations,  produced  bewilder- 
ing psychological  phenomena,  paroxysms  of  conflicting  pas- 
sions, sudden  alternations  of  joy  and  anguish,  which  he 
regarded  as  manifestly  supernatural.  Sometimes,  in  the  very 
ecstasy  of  his  devotion,  the  memory  of  old  scenes  would 
crowd  upon  his  mind.  The  shady  groves  and  soft,  volup- 
tuous gardens  of  his  native  city  would  arise,  and,  kneeling 
alone  upon  the  burning  sand,  he  seemed  to  see  around  him 
the  fair  groups  of  dancing-girls,  on  whose  warm,  undulating 
limbs  and  wanton  smiles  his  youthful  eyes  had  too  fondly 
dwelt.  .  .  .  The  simplest  incident  came  at  last  to  suggest 
diabolical  influence."  2 

1  W.  R.  Inge,  Christian  Mysticism,  p.  16. 

3  W.  E.  H.  Lecky,  History  of  European  Morals,  II,  pp.  116  ff. 


64  VISIONS 

Brutus  had  a  vision  of  Caesar  whom  he  had  murdered. 
The  spectre  appeared  when  he  was  anxious  about  the  battle 
which  was  to  be  the  crisis  in  his  career,  and  promised  to  meet 
him  at  Philippi,  where  the  murderer  afterward  sustained 
disastrous  defeat.  St.  Anthony,  in  the  desert,  heard  the 
voice  of  Christ,  was  beaten  by  devils,  was  frightened  by  the 
spectre  of  a  black  boy,  and  was  enticed  by  a  phantom  woman. 
St.  Augustine's  conversion  was  accompanied  by  an  hallucina- 
tion and  his  mother  had  visions.  St.  Teresa  speaks  of  Jesus, 
St.  Francois  de  Sales  of  the  Virgin,  and  Henry  Suso,  a 
German  mystic  of  the  fourteenth  century,  of  the  "Eternal 
Wisdom"  in  the  form  of  a  beautiful  maiden.  To  the 
latter  the  maiden  was  a  lovely  mistress  and  his  soul  em- 
braced her.  He  also  had  a  vision  of  the  Holy  Child  on 
Candlemas  Day,  whom  he  handled  and  kissed  in  great  joy. 
St.  Gertrude  had  hallucinations  of  amatory  caresses  and 
favors  from  the  Son  of  God.  The  Lord  appeared  and, 
"giving  to  her  soul  the  softest  kiss,"  talked  with  her  and 
called  her  his  beloved.  Julian  of  Norwich  prayed  that  she 
might  have  "a  grievous  sickness  almost  unto  death,"  in  order 
that  she  might  enjoy  a  "bodily  sight"  of  her  Lord  upon  the 
cross,  "like  others  that  were  Christ's  lovers."  The  sickness 
came,  and  when  she  was  thought  to  be  dying  the  vision  ap- 
peared. The  blessed  Margaret  Mary  Alacoque  received  the 
vision  and  revelation  of  the  Sacred  Heart.  The  Lord  took 
her  heart  out  of  her  breast  and  inflamed  it;  He  then  returned 
it  to  her.  Raphael's  "San  Sisto"  was  presented  as  a  vision 
to  the  astonished  artist,  who  reproduced  it  on  canvas.  Luther 
threw  an  ink-bottle  at  a  vision  of  the  devil,  the  Lord  appeared 
to  St.  Francis  in  the  form  of  a  seraph,  and  Emanuel  Sweden- 
borg  beheld  God  himself.  Engelbrecht  relates  how  he  was 
carried  by  the  Holy  Spirit  through  space  to  the  gates  of  hell, 
and  then  borne  in  a  golden  chariot  to  heaven,  where  he  saw 
choirs  of  saints  and  angels  singing  around  the  throne,  and 


VISIONS  65 

received  a  message  from  God,  delivered  to  him  by  an  angel. 
Marie  de  Morel  betrayed  her  vision  by  her  attitude  and  the 
expression  of  her  countenance.  Thus  at  Christmas  time  she 
seemed  to  hold  in  her  arms  a  new-born  babe,  at  Epiphany 
she  worshipped  it  on  her  knees  as  the  Magi  might,  and  on 
Holy  Thursday  she  attended  the  marriage  at  Cana.  The 
different  scenes  in  the  life  of  Christ  were  enacted,  including 
the  Passion  and  the  crucifixion.  Louise  Lateau  had  a  vision 
of  the  Passion  which  she  enacted  with  considerable  histrionic 
skill,  and  on  awakening  described  with  much  detail  the  cross, 
vestments,  crown  of  thorns,  wounds,  and  other  factors  in  the 
scene.  Joan  of  Arc,  at  twelve  years  of  age,  heard  voices 
commanding  her,  and  shortly  afterward  saw  the  figures  of 
the  saints  (St.  Catherine  and  St.  Margaret).  Of  the  attire 
of  the  saints  her  Voice  would  not  give  her  permission  to  speak, 
but  she  told  of  their  being  preceded  by  St.  Michael  and  the 
angels  of  heaven.  She  said,  "I  saw  them  as  clearly  as  I  see 
you,  and  I  used  to  weep  when  they  departed,  and  would  fain 
that  they  should  have  taken  me  with  them."  However,  the 
auditory  hallucinations  controlled  her  life  far  more  than  the 
visions.  Joseph  Smith,  among  other  religious  founders, 
valued  his  visions  very  highly,  and  his  followers  still  cite 
them. 

Among  the  visions  of  this  age,  perhaps  the  most  remark- 
able were  a  series  of  apparitions  of  the  Virgin  at  Dordogne, 
in  1889.  A  neurotic  child  of  eleven  years,  named  Marie 
Magoutier,  was  the  first  to  see  the  vision.  She  saw  a  figure 
like  the  statues  in  the  churches  in  a  hole  in  a  wall  situated 
in  a  lonely  place.  The  vision  next  appeared  to  children  of 
her  own  age,  and  then  to  a  large  number  of  peasants,  both 
men  and  women.  The  suggestion  was  general,  and  each  one 
filled  in  and  particularized  for  himself.  For  this  reason, 
while  the  visions  were  similar,  the  details  differed.  To  some 
the  Virgin  appeared  dressed  in  white,  to  others  in  black; 


66  VISIONS 

sometimes  she  was  veiled  and  sometimes  not;  sometimes  the 
figure  was  large  and  at  other  times  small;  sometimes  the 
body  was  luminous,  or  lights  were  attached  to  the  shoulders 
or  breasts;  at  times  the  surroundings  also  changed.  These 
visions  were  seen  in  cracks  or  holes  in  the  wall,  but  some 
who  had  seen  the  Virgin  in  the  wall  also  saw  her  in  the 
fields  or  on  the  road.  Convulsive  movements  and  ecstasy 
were  exhibited  by  a  few.  On  August  n  more  than  fifteen 
hundred  persons  visited  the  wall,  and  many  of  these  saw  the 
Virgin.1 

We  have  been  talking  of  visions  without  any  definition. 
By  a  vision  we  simply  mean  something  seen.  The  idea  has 
been  narrowed  so  as  to  stand  for  visual  hallucinations,  i.  e., 
when  there  is  nothing  objectively  present  corresponding  to 
our  perception.  By  usage  there  is  a  further  limitation,  and 
the  term  "vision"  is  used  for  visual  hallucination  when  the 
apparition  is  of  a  religious  character.  Most  persons  have 
had  hallucinations  of  some  sense,  although  the  visual  and 
auditory  ones  predominate;  they  are  common  phenomena. 
When  we  speak  of  a  vision,  however,  the  tendency  is  to  think 
of  it  as  a  mysterious  and  abnormal  experience.  Of  course, 
hallucinations  with  a  reasonable  and  connected  thread  run- 
ning through  a  complete  picture  or  act  are  uncommon,  but 
they  are  experienced,  nevertheless,  with  no  religious  sig- 
nificance. 

The  possibility  of  vision  depends  on  the  temperament  of 
the  individual,  and  the  character  is  determined  by  the  con- 
tent of  mind,  suggestion,  and  imitation.  Some  people  cor- 
rect their  hallucinations  and  recognize  them  as  such,  others 
retain  them  as  visions.  The  vision  is  a  form  of  sensory 
automatism.  Why  the  overflow  of  energy  should  take  the 
sensory  form  as  in  vision  rather  than  the  motor  form  as  in 

1  L.  Mariliier,  "Apparitions  of  the  Virgin,"  Proceedings  of  the  Society 
for  Psychical  Research,  VII,  pp.  ioo-iio. 


VISIONS  67 

glossolalia,  is  a  secret  wrapped  up  in  the  special  constitution 
of  the  nervous  system  of  the  particular  individual. 

The  character  of  the  vision  depends  on  many  factors. 
Some  are  full  of  details  and  others  are  meagre.  This  may 
depend  upon  the  amount  of  passionate  feeling  possessed  by 
the  individual,  but  it  is  more  likely  to  be  fixed  by  the  content 
of  the  mind.  A  mind  richly  stored  has  more  varied  and 
richer  visions.  It  may  also  depend  on  the  suggestion  given 
by  word  or  that  given  by  the  experience  of  others.  The  in- 
cident of  the  visions  of  the  Virgin  seen  by  so  many  people  is 
an  example  of  the  suggested  vision,  the  details  of  which  were 
supplied  by  the  individual.  There  is  also  a  great  difference  in 
the  visionary  repertoire  of  people.  Some  are  confined  to  a 
single  vision  which  is  often  repeated,  with  others  visions  are 
experienced  on  a  great  variety  of  subjects,  and  with  the  seer 
these  may  appear  on  demand  or  on  suggestion.  Visions 
cannot  appear  when  thought  is  active;  there  must  appa- 
rently be  a  cessation  of  active  mentality.  They  differ  from 
dreaming,  however,  for  visions  come  when  the  subject  is 
awake. 

In  the  fifth  century  there  was  a  passion  for  visions  of 
heaven  and  hell,  which  was  a  natural  continuation  of  the 
desire  for  dogmatic  definition.  Not  all  mystics  or  vision- 
aries, however,  put  great  dependence  on  visions,  and  some 
even  consider  their  value  doubtful.  "We  do  not  find  that 
masters  of  the  spiritual  life  attached  very  much  importance 
to  them,  or  often  appealed  to  them  as  aids  to  faith.  As  a 
rule,  visions  were  regarded  as  special  rewards  bestowed  by 
the  goodness  of  God  on  the  struggling  saint,  and  especially 
on  the  beginner,  to  refresh  him  and  strengthen  him  in  the 
hour  of  need.  Very  earnest  cautions  were  issued  that  no 
effort  must  be  made  to  induce  them  artificially,  and  aspirants 
were  exhorted  neither  to  desire  them,  nor  to  feel  pride  in 
having  seen  them.     The  spiritual  guides  of  the  Middle  Ages 


68  VISIONS 

were  well  aware  that  such  experiences  often  come  of  disordered 
nerves  and  weakened  digestion;  they  believed  also  that  they 
are  sometimes  delusions  of  Satan.  Richard  of  St.  Victor 
says,  '  As  Christ  attested  His  transfiguration  by  the  presence 
of  Moses  and  Elias,  so  visions  should  not  be  believed  unless 
they  have  the  authority  of  Scripture.'  Albertus  Magnus 
tries  to  classify  them,  and  says  that  those  which  contain  a 
sensuous  element  are  always  dangerous.  Eckhart  is  still 
more  cautious,  and  Tauler  attaches  little  value  to  them. 
Avila,  the  Spanish  mystic,  says  that  only  those  visions  which 
minister  to  our  spiritual  necessities  and  make  us  more  humble 
are  genuine.  Self-induced  visions  inflate  us  with  pride,  and 
do  irreparable  injury  to  health  of  mind  and  body."  l  St. 
John  of  the  Cross  said  that  at  best  visions  are  "  childish  toys  " ; 
"the  fly  that  touches  honey  cannot  fly,"  and  the  probability 
is  that  they  come  from  the  devil.  Molinos  took  the  same 
view.  "The  Hebrews  were  aware  that  the  vision,  in  which 
spiritual  truth  is  clothed  in  forms  derived  from  the  sphere  of 
the  outer  senses,  is  not  the  highest  form  of  revelation."  2 

The  study  of  visions  betrays  the  fact,  then,  that  some  are 
simply  pictorial  representations  in  consciousness,  according 
to  natural  psychical  laws,  of  fleeting  thoughts,  prayers,  or 
beliefs,  perhaps  long  forgotten,  but  carefully  retained  by  the 
subconsciousness.  These  are  sometimes  recognized  by  con- 
sciousness as  such,  and  at  other  times  appear  to  be  entirely 
new  material.  Other  visions  are  but  exaggerations  of  past 
experiences,  or  visual  presentations  of  auditory  or  other  than 
visual  experiences  of  the  past.  Still  others  may  not  represent 
past  experiences  of  any  kind,  but  are  simply  newly  created 
presentations;  known  facts  may  be  weaved  in  or  certain 
portions  may  be  suggested.  Most  religious  visions  are,  to 
some  extent,  a  new  creation,  and  so  come  under  the  latter 

1  W.  R.  Inge,  Christian  Mysticism,  p.  16  /. 

2  R.  Smith,  The  Prophets  of  Israel,  p.  220. 


VISIONS  69 

class,  in  which  suggestion  may  play  considerable  part.1  If 
the  emotional  pressure  is  considerable,  and  the  intense  con- 
centration of  attention,  as  already  noted  to  be  so  necessary 
for  ecstasy,  is  present,  then  suggestion  completes  the  trio 
which  fulfil  the  necessary  conditions  for  visions. 

We  must  not  think,  however,  that  all  visions  and  hallucina- 
tions are  experienced  in  connection  with  ecstasy;  this  is  far 
from  being  true;  it  would  be  more  correct  to  say  that  in  most 
cases  of  ecstasy  visions  are  present.  Neither  must  we  think 
that  because  hallucinations  are  not  uncommon  and  come  in 
connection  with  numerous  subjects,  and  that  we  can  trace 
some  religious  visions  to  previous  experiences,  and  that  all 
are  due  to  subconscious  activity,  that  God  is  eliminated  from 
them  and  that  He  cannot  give  a  revelation  through  them. 
This,  again,  is  making  a  statement  for  which  we  have  no 
evidence,  for  there  are  some  visions  for  which  we  cannot 
account  except  by  the  creative  imagination.  To  say  this  is 
but  to  designate  method,  not  cause. 

Visions  may  be  obtained  at  will  by  some  through  the  phe- 
nomenon of  crystal  gazing,  and  like  ecstasy  may  be  in- 
duced by  certain  hypnotics.  Some  persons  have  had  genuine 
religious  visions  while  under  the  influence  of  chloroform.2 
We  find  that  at  the  time  of  definite  religious  experiences 
visions  are  liable  to  appear.  At  the  time  of  conversion,  heal- 
ing by  faith  or  at  shrines,  the  taking  of  vows,  or  of  consecra- 
tion, they  are  common.  These  visions  are  usually  of  a 
religious  character,  but  not  necessarily  so.  Visions  at  con- 
version are  not  nearly  so  common  as  formerly.  As  an 
example  of  this  form,  the  following  is  an  account  from  the 
Wesleyan  Revival.  "One  girl,  who  had  'come  through' 
after  shrieking  and  insensibility  and  violent  distortion  of 

1  M.  Prince,  "An  Experimental  Study  of  Visions,"  Brain,  XXI,  pp. 

2  W.  James,  The  Varieties  oj  Religious  Experience,  p.  391. 


yo 


VISIONS 


face,  related  that  in  the  swoon  she  thought  herself  on  an 
island  and  saw  Satan  in  a  hideous  form  just  ready  to  de- 
vour her,  hell  all  around  open  to  receive  her  and  herself 
just  ready  to  drop  in.  But  just  as  she  was  dropping,  the 
Lord  appeared  between  her  and  the  gulf  and  would  not  let 
her  fall."  * 

1  F.  M.  Davenport,  Primitive  Traits  in  Religious  Revivals,  p.  172. 


CHAPTER  VII 

DREAMS 

"Dreams, 
Which  are  the  children  of  an  idle  brain, 
Begot  of  nothing  but  vain  fantasy, 
Which  is  as  thin  of  substance  as  the  air 
And  more  inconstant  than  the  wind." — Shakespeare. 

Dreams  as  sleeping  visions  and  visions  as  waking  dreams 
are  closely  connected  psychologically,  as  well  as  in  the  sig- 
nificance put  upon  them  by  primitive  religions.  The  super- 
stitions attached  to  dreams  by  so  many  people  to-day  might 
indicate  their  religious  importance  in  days  gone  by.  While 
they  have  little  religious  or  prophetic  value  now,  they  were 
formerly  considered  visions  from  God.  They  furnished 
mythologies  to  the  heathen,  and  have  produced  revelations 
for  the  exercise  of  faith.1  But  notwithstanding  the  recogni- 
tion of  both  good  and  evil  dream  spirits,  the  savage  does  not 
seem  to  dread  them,  for  he  courts  both  sleep  and  dreams, 
the  latter  sometimes  by  artificial  means,  by  fasting,  for  in- 
stance.2 Nightmares  have  played  no  small  part  in  the  de- 
velopment of  demonology,  and  in  the  belief  in  vampires  and 
witches.3  Dreams  are  really  manifestations  of  the  myth- 
making  tendency  of  the  human  mind,  examples  of  the  ac- 
tivity of  the  uncontrolled  imagination. 

Not  a  little  of  the  work  of  soothsayers  among  the  early 

1  W.  James,  Psychology,  II,  p.  294. 

a  C.  C.  Everett,  Psychological  Elements  of  Religious  Faith,  p.  46. 
3  E.  Parish,  Hallucinations  and  Illusions,  p.  56. 

7i 


72 


DREAMS 


nations  was  the  interpretation  of  dreams.  The  Old  Testa- 
ment calls  our  attention  to  the  need  of  discriminating  be- 
tween the  dreams  of  the  good  and  of  the  false  prophets.1 
They  were  thought  to  be  the  suggestions  of  good  or  of  evil 
spirits.2  Among  some  of  the  less  civilized  races  and  peoples 
the  dreams  of  women  played  a  more  important  part  than 
those  of  men.  In  the  Lake  Shirwa  district  of  Central  Africa, 
for  example,  sacred  functions  are  performed  by  the  prophet- 
ess, who  is  usually  one  of  the  chief's  wives.  The  gods  or 
ancestral  spirits  make  known  their  will  to  her  by  means  of 
dreams,  from  which  she  gives  forth  oracles  according  to  the 
exigencies  of  the  case.  These  oracles  are  usually  delivered 
in  a  frenzied  state.3 

Even  to-day  there  are  some  startling  examples  of  veridical 
dreams,  those  which  have  come  true,  or  are  being  enacted 
in  real  life  at  the  time  without  the  conscious  knowledge  of 
the  dreamer.  Dreams  of  prophecy,  as  far  as  disease  of  the 
body  is  concerned,  are  most  valuable  premonitory  symptoms 
for  the  physician.4  The  organic  sensations  of  a  pathological 
character  may  be  so  vague  and  feeble  that  they  are  not  con- 
sciously perceived,  but  they  create  subconscious  impressions 
which  give  rise  to  dreams  which  to  the  illiterate  seem  strangely 
prophetical.  It  is  possible  that  in  some  cases  of  mental 
trouble  the  dream  may  be,  in  a  certain  measure,  a  cause  of 
the  disorder.  Hysterical  paralysis  not  infrequently  begins 
in  this  way,  and  other  neurotic  troubles  take  their  form  from 
the  influence  of  dream  suggestions.  The  delusions  which 
afterward  become  permanent  in  insanity  may  be  first  noticed 
in  a  dream.     In  many  cases  of  demoniacal  possession  the 

1  O.  C.  Whitehouse,  "Soothsayer,"  Hastings'  Bible  Dictionary,  IV, 
p.  601. 

2  M.  de  Manaceine,  Sleep,  p.  4. 

3  H.  Ellis,  Man  and  Woman,  p.  263. 

4  L.  Waldstein,  The  Subconscious  Selj,  p.  98. 


DREAMS  73 

first  symptoms  occur  during  sleep,  in  dreams.  So,  in  some 
cases,  we  still  recognize  the  prophetic  quality  of  dreams.1 

Dreams  have  already  been  referred  to  as  an  example  of 
the  activity  of  subconsciousness;  in  fact,  dreaming  is  a  repre- 
sentative form  of  subconscious  mental  action.2  In  dreams, 
there  is  no  guidance  by  consciousness;  we  commit  acts  for 
which  we  should  never  forgive  ourselves,  and  yet  we  rarely 
feel  the  slightest  remorse;  there  are  no  restrictions  put  upon 
our  actions,  no  qualities  of  real  or  unreal,  possible  or  impos- 
sible, right  or  wrong.  We  are  surprised  at  nothing  in  our 
dreams  and  nothing  seems  incongruous;  dreams  are  true 
while  they  last.  Neither  are  there  restrictions  as  far  as  pur- 
poses or  ends  are  concerned;  in  dreamland  there  are  no 
tasks  to  burden  us,  we  may  wander  where  we  will,  or  rather 
we  may  follow  the  sportive  vagaries  of  the  uncontrolled 
imagination,  without  fear  of  rebuke  or  punishment.  So 
rapid  and  intuitive  is  the  succession  of  ideas  in  dreams  as  to 
remind  us  of  the  vision  of  Mohammed,  in  which  he  saw  all 
the  wonders  of  heaven  and  hell,  although  the  jar  of  water 
which  fell  when  his  ecstasy  commenced  had  not  spilled  its 
contents  when  he  returned  to  his  normal  state.3 

The  immediate  stimuli  of  dreams  are  usually  insignificant.4 
It  is  a  case  of  a  little  fire  starting  a  great  matter;  for  the 
imagination  seizes  the  slightest  suggestion  and  by  subcon- 
scious processes  elaborates  it  out  of  all  proportion.  These 
stimuli  may  be  of  two  kinds :  objective  excitement  and  asso- 
ciation of  ideas.5  The  former  variety  is  the  more  numerous 
and  includes  those  already  referred  to  as  premonitory  symp- 
toms of  disease,  dreams  suggested  by  noises,  uncomfortable 

1  C.  L.  Tuckey,  Treatment  by  Hypnotism  and  Suggestion,  p.  39. 

2  J.  Jastrow,  The  Subconsciousness,  p.  220. 

3  W.  Scott,  Demonology  and  Witchcraft,  p.  29. 

*  G.  T.  Ladd,  Psychology,  Descriptive  and  Explanatory,  p.  412. 
8  A.  Moll,  Hypnotism,  p.  210. 


74  DREAMS 

positions  of  the  body,  indigestion,  and  other  forms  of  objective 
stimulation  so  well  known  to  all  who  have  examined  dreams 
to  any  extent.  For  example,  the  noise  made  by  a  slamming 
door  may  serve  as  a  stimulus,  and  a  dream  of  some  length  is 
experienced  ending  in  a  climax  of  an  exploding  cannon. 
This  is  only  possible  on  account  of  the  wonderful  rapidity  of 
dream  activity.  A  whispered  word  or  some  auto-suggestion 
may  serve  the  same  purpose. 

Those  dreams  which  come  through  the  association  of  ideas, 
when  there  is  no  external  stimulus,  can  only  be  explained  by 
the  constant  activity  of  the  subconsciousness.  Failing  to 
have  a  dream  suggested  to  it  by  present  physical  sensation, 
the  mind  seems  to  revert  to  the  subjects  of  thought  of  the 
previous  day,  or  of  some  former  period  of  life,  and  to  take 
up  one  or  other  of  them  as  a  theme  on  which  to  play  varia- 
tions. Very  rarely,  however,  do  our  dreams  take  up  the 
matter  which  has  most  engrossed  us  for  hours  before  sleep.1 
The  ideas  appear  like  stars  at  sunset.  As  soon  as  conscious- 
ness, with  its  watchful  regulations,  has  subsided,  subcon- 
sciousness assumes  control,  and  uses  or  misuses  the  mental 
household.     When  the  cat  is  away  the  mice  will  play. 

It  will  be  noticed  that  these  two  varieties  of  dreams  corre- 
spond to  the  distinction  made  between  hallucinations  and 
illusions.  The  latter  variety  has  some  external  stimulus, 
but  is  misinterpreted,  the  former  is  without  objective  stimu- 
lation. As  there  is  no  fixed  line  but  a  graduated  scale  be- 
tween illusions  and  hallucinations,  so  the  line  of  demarca- 
tion between  these  two  forms  of  dreams  is  not  always  clear. 

One  phenomenon  of  the  dream  state  is  the  exhibition  of  a 
marvellous  power  of  memory.  Much  that  is  considered 
miraculous  in  dreams  is  but  the  working  of  an  abnormally 
acute  memory.     Not  a  little  of  the  material  for  dreams  is 

1F.  B.  Cobbe,  "Unconscious  Cerebration,"  Macmillan's  Magazine, 
XXIII,  pp.  24-27;   "Dreams,"  ibid.,  pp.  512-523. 


DREAMS  75 

furnished  by  impressions  left  on  the  subconsciousness  by 
occurrences  long  since  past,  which  have  completely  faded 
out  of  conscious  memory  or  may,  in  truth,  never  have  been 
consciously  perceived.1  There  is  sometimes  a  strange  ex- 
perience when  a  person  is  in  a  hypnagogic  state— between 
waking  and  sleeping— when  he  knows  he  is  dreaming,  and 
knows  the  content  is  unreal,  but  makes  an  effort  to  prolong 
the  dream  if  agreeable,  or  to  stop  it  if  it  is  not  pleasant.  The 
influence  of  these  and  other  dreams  is  occasionally  felt  after 
awaking,  and  sometimes  the  same  sensations  continue.2 

Whatever  be  the  kind  of  dream,  whatever  its  origin,  its 
seat  is  always  in  the  subconsciousness,  and  it  must  always  be 
studied  from  this  standpoint.  Among  the  dreams  designated 
as  coming  through  the  association  of  ideas  are  some  of  quite 
a  different  character  from  those  which  we  have  already  men- 
tioned. I  refer  to  those  in  which  problems  are  solved,  work 
of  different  kinds  developed  or  finished,  and  speeches  or 
articles  composed  which  would  be  difficult  or  quite  impossible 
in  the  conscious  state.  Allow  me  to  give  one  example.  Cole- 
ridge, who  was  naturally  a  dreamer,  fell  asleep  while  reading 
the  passage  in  Purchases  Pilgrimage  in  which  is  mentioned 
"the  stately  pleasure  house."  On  awaking  he  felt  as  though 
he  had  composed  two  or  three  hundred  lines  with  which  he 
had  nothing  further  to  do  but  to  write  them  down,  "the  images 
rising  up  as  things,  with  a  parallel  production  of  the  corre- 
spondent expressions,  without  any  sensation  or  consciousness 
of  effort."  The  whole  of  this  remarkable  fragment—"  Kubla 
Khan"— consisting  of  fifty-four  lines,  was  written  as  fast  as 
his  pen  could  trace  the  words.  When  this  much  had  been 
transcribed,  he  was  interrupted  by  a  person  on  business,  who 
stayed  over  an  hour.    After  this  the  poet  found  to  his  sur- 

1  A.  Moll,  Hypnotism,  p.  143. 

3  See  F.  W.  H.  Myers,  Human  Personality  and  its  Survival  oj  Bodily 
Death,  I,  Chap.  IV,  for  an  interesting  discussion  of  the  whole  subject. 


76  DREAMS 

prise  and  mortification  that  "although  he  still  retained  some 
vague  and  dim  recollection  of  the  general  purport  of  the 
vision,  yet,  with  the  exception  of  some  eight  or  ten  scattered 
lines  and  images,  all  the  rest  had  passed  away,  like  the  images 
on  the  surface  of  a  stream  into  which  a  stone  had  been  cast; 
but  alas!  without  the  after-restoration  of  the  latter."  *  Equally 
illustrative  of  the  creative  power  of  dreams  is  the  delightful 
account  given  by  Stevenson.2 

After  considering  phenomena,  of  which  these  are  but 
samples,  the  question  naturally  arises,  if  supernormal  revela- 
tions are  given  to  men  in  dreams  dealing  with  poetry,  mathe- 
matics, and  business,  would  it  be  unreasonable  to  suppose 
that,  on  occasions  when  there  appeared  to  be  a  necessity  for 
them,  supernormal  revelations  of  religion  should  be  vouch- 
safed? I  have  spoken  of  the  seat  of  the  dreams  being  the 
subconsciousness,  the  method  of  working  being  the  associa- 
tion of  ideas,  but  of  the  origin  nothing  has  been  opined. 
Might  it  be  possible  that  we  could  opine  a  divine  origin  in 
some  cases? 

"The  psychology  of  dreams  and  visions,  so  far  as  we  can 
speak  of  such  a  psychology,  furnishes  us  with  neither  suffi- 
cient motive  nor  sufficient  means  for  denying  the  truth  of 
the  Biblical  narratives.  On  the  contrary,  there  are  certain 
grounds  for  confirming  the  truth  of  some  of  these  narra- 
tives. .  .  .  Even  in  ordinary  dreams,  the  dreamer  is  still 
the  human  soul.  The  soul  acts,  then,  even  in  dreaming,  as 
a  unity,  which  involves  within  itself  the  functions  and  ac- 
tivities of  the  higher,  even  of  the  ethical  and  religious  powers. 
.  .  .  The  possibilities  of  even  the  highest  forms  of  ethical 
and  religious  activities  in  dreams  cannot  be  denied.  .  . 
There  is  nothing  in  the  physiological  or  psychical  conditions 
of  dream-life  to  prevent  such  psychical  activity  for  the  recep- 

1  W.  B.  Carpenter,  Mental  Physiology,  p.  268. 

'  R.  L.  Stevenson,  Across  the  Plains,  Chapter  on  Dreams. 


DREAMS  77 

tion  of  revealed  truth.  ...  It  remains  in  general  true  that 
the  Bible  does  not  transgress  the  safe  limits  of  possible  or 
even  actual  experience."  l 

While  the  Bible  as  a  whole  does  not  emphasize  the  religious 
value  of  dreams,  there  are  some  incidents  which  seem  to  be 
important.  Matthew  records  six  supernatural  dreams,  of 
which  at  least  the  five  found  in  the  first  two  chapters  are 
fundamentally  important.  These  six  are  the  only  dreams 
referred  to  in  the  New  Testament  except  in  citation.  Since 
Apostolic  times  many  instances  of  the  power  of  dreams  in 
the  lives  of  men  have  filled  the  pages  of  religious  history.  On 
the  dream  of  Patrick  hung  his  whole  work  as  an  apostle  to 
the  Irish;  by  a  dream  Elizabeth  Fry  was  rescued  from  the 
indecision  and  doubt  into  which  she  fell  after  her  conversion ; 
dreams  played  a  vital  part  in  the  conversions  of  John  Bunyan, 
John  Newton,  James  Gardiner,  Alexander  Duff,  and  many 
others.2 

I  have  already  noted  that  visions  are  experienced  to-day  in 
times  of  unusual  religious  experience.  The  same  may  be 
said  of  dreams.  In  some  investigations  made  in  connection 
with  religious  awakenings,  the  following  striking  dreams  were 
noticed :  dreams  of  being  cast  into  hell  and  suffering  all  the 
torments  of  the  damned,  dreams  of  being  cast  out  of  heaven, 
dreams  of  a  heavenly  procession  which  the  subject  could  not 
join,  and  dreams  of  being  examined  on  fitness  to  go  to  heaven.3 
At  such  times  the  dreams  are  likely  to  be  of  a  terrifying  char- 
acter, although  this  is  not  always  the  case. 

1  G.  T.  Ladd,  The  Doctrine  of  the  Sacred  Scripture,  II,  p.  436. 

2  B.  B.  Warfield,  "  Dream,"  Hastings'  Dictionary  0}  Christ,  etc.,  I, 
PP-  494  fi. 

3  G.  A.  Coe,  The  Spiritual  Life,  p.  122. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

STIGMATIZATION 
"He  jests  at  scars  that  never  felt  a  wound." — Shakespeare. 

The  ancient  method  of  showing  tribal  connection  was  by 
certain  marks  branded  or  tatooed  on  the  body  similar  to  the 
brands  which  are  now  placed  on  cattle  or  horses.  In  de- 
scribing a  temple  of  Hercules  in  Egypt,  Herodotus  says  that 
it  was  not  lawful  to  retake  runaway  slaves  who  had  sought 
refuge  therein,  if  they  had  on  their  bodies  marks  consecrating 
them  to  Deity.1  Paul  may  have  had  a  similar  idea  in  saying, 
"  From  henceforth  let  no  man  trouble  me;  for  I  bear  branded 
on  my  body  the  marks  (stigmata)  of  Jesus."  Whether  Paul 
meant  by  this  marks  of  shipwreck  and  scourging  received  in 
the  Master's  service  or  definite  marks  signifying  his  disciple- 
ship,  we  do  not  know.  He  may  have  referred  to  the  blindness 
which  befell  him  at  the  time  of  his  conversion.2 

The  New  Testament  speaks  of  voluntary  mutilations  for 
Christ's  sake,  and  we  know  that  later  Christians  marked 
themselves  on  the  hands  or  arms  with  the  cross  or  the  name 
of  Christ.  In  the  middle  centuries  nuns  marked  themselves 
as  a  means  of  protection,  and  martyrs  were  branded  on  their 
foreheads  as  a  form  of  persecution.3  Some  think  the  marks 
to  which  Paul  referred  were  on  his  body  typifying  the  pas- 

1  Encyclopedia  Britannica,  Art.  "  Somatization." 

2  J.  Hastings,  "Mark,"  Hastings'  Bible  Dictionary,  III,  p.  244  /.; 
J.  C.  Lambert,  "Stigmata,"  Hastings'  Dictionary  oj  Christ,  etc.,  II, 
p.  677  /. 

3  Encyclopedia  Britannica,  Art.  "  Somatization." 

78 


STIGMATIZATION  79 

sion  and  crucifixion  of  Jesus.  While  this  is  not  likely,  the 
term  "  stigmatization "  now  designates  this  condition.  It 
consists  of  the  marks  of  the  nails  on  the  hands  and  feet,  of 
the  spear  thrust  in  the  side,  of  the  thorns  on  the  forehead, 
and  of  scourgings  on  the  body. 

In  genuine  cases  these  wounds  are  not  externally  inflicted 
by  the  person  experiencing  them  or  by  others,  but  they 
appear  spontaneously  in  ecstasy.  Less  than  four  hundred 
cases  have  been  reported  scattered  through  the  last  seven 
hundred  years,  about  one  hundred  of  which  were  credited 
to  the  nineteenth  century.1  They  have  been  experienced  in 
every  European  country  as  well  as  in  America,  and  among 
persons  in  every  station  of  life,  especially,  though,  by  mem- 
bers of  the  Dominican  and  Franciscan  orders.  The  reason 
for  the  latter  fact  will  become  apparent  as  we  proceed  with 
the  description  of  this  state.  Only  about  one  in  twenty,  or 
about  a  score  in  all,  were  married. 

Unless  we  consider  Paul  thus  branded,  Saint  Francis  of 
Assisi,  Italy,  was  the  first  one  to  receive  these  marks.2  He 
was  born  in  1182,  and  after  twenty  years  spent  in  a  careless 
manner,  being  indulged  by  his  mother  and  in  business  part- 
nership with  his  father,  he  had  a  severe  illness.  He  arose 
from  his  sick  bed  much  altered,  and  forsaking  his  old  friends 
and  haunts  he  embraced  a  life  of  rigid  penance  and  utter 
poverty.  He  tried  to  live  a  life  modelled  after  that  of  Christ. 
He  retired  to  a  grotto  near  Assisi  and  gave  himself  up  to 
profound  meditation  on  the  sufferings  of  Jesus.  His  austeri- 
ties and  simple  eloquence  soon  attracted  others  to  his  life,  and 
in  1208,  with  seven  others,  the  Franciscan  order  was  founded. 
It  grew  rapidly  and  was  finally  approved  by  Innocent  III. 
On  September  14, 1224,  on  Monte  Alverno,  a  lonely  mountain 

1  New  International  Encyclopedia,  Art.  "Stigmatization." 

2  Paul  Sabatier,  St.  Francis  of  Assisi;  F.  P.  L.  Josa,  St.  Francis  of 
Assisi. 


8o  STIGMATIZATION 

near  Assisi,  the  Lord  appeared  to  Francis  in  the  form  of  a 
seraph,  with  arms  extended  and  feet  as  if  fixed  to  a  cross. 
After  thinking  what  this  might  mean,  in  an  ecstasy  of  prayer 
there  appeared  on  his  body  marks  corresponding  to  the  nail 
wounds  of  Christ  on  his  hands  and  feet,  and  a  wound  in  his 
side.  We  are  told  by  some  authorities  that  the  side  wound 
bled  occasionally,  but  Bonaventura  calls  it  a  scar.  The  evi- 
dence of  Pope  Alexander  IV,  Saint  Bonaventura  and  other 
witnesses  who  saw  the  wounds  both  before  and  after  his 
death  appears  satisfactory  and  incontrovertible.  Francis 
died  two  years  after  the  appearance  of  the  stigmata,  October 
3,  1226. 

The  second  stigmatic  was  Saint  Catherine  of  Siena  (Cath- 
erine Benincasa).  She  was  born  one  hundred  and  eleven 
years  after  the  death  of  Francis,  in  1347.  Early  in  life  she 
began  austerities  and  had  religious  experiences.  At  six 
years  of  age  she  flogged  herself  and  had  visions;  at  seven 
she  deprived  herself  of  food.  Her  main  object  in  life  seems 
to  have  been  to  conceive  of  some  new  cruelty  to  inflict  upon 
herself,  until  it  was  said  she  went  without  food  several  years 
and  slept  only  fifteen  minutes  out  of  every  twenty-four  hours 
(sic).  She  became  a  sister  of  the  third  rule  of  St.  Dominic. 
When  twenty-three  years  old,  after  receiving  the  sacrament, 
she  fell  into  a  trance  as  was  her  custom  on  similar  occasions. 
During  the  trance  she  enacted  the  crucifixion  and  then  came 
to  her  confessor  and  told  him  that  she  had  received  the 
much  coveted  stigmata.  She  related  to  him  a  vision  in 
which  she  had  seen  the  light  streaming  from  the  wounds  in 
Jesus'  body  to  the  corresponding  parts  of  her  body,  and 
thus  she  was  stigmatized. 

It  is  difficult  to  appreciate  the  value  of  this  second  case 
without  a  knowledge  of  the  fierce  and  bitter  rivalry  which 
existed  between  the  Dominicans  and  Franciscans  at  this 
time.     St.  Francis'  experience  was  unique  and  the  exclusive 


STIGMATIZATION  81 

boast  of  his  followers.  After  the  stigmatization  of  Cath- 
erine, the  Dominicans  considered  themselves  equally  blessed. 
Pope  Pius  II,  a  townsman  of  Catherine,  approved  of  a  ser- 
vice incorporating  her  stigmatization,  but  Sixtus  IV,  a 
Franciscan  who  followed  Pius,  decreed  that  Francis  had  an 
exclusive  right  to  this  miracle.  Further  light  is  thrown  on 
this  rivalry  by  the  constant  attempts  of  Catherine  to  outdo 
Francis  in  all  austerities,  and  were  it  necessary  to  make  such 
an  explanation,  attention  might  be  called  to  the  fact  that  her 
frequent  floggings  would  make  fraud  quite  possible. 

After  the  experience  of  Catherine,  stigmatization  occurred 
comparatively  frequently,  but  almost  without  exception  it 
was  among  members  of  these  two  orders.  About  four 
females  were  stigmatized  to  every  male.  Most  of  these 
experiences  took  place  in  religious  houses  after  the  austerities 
of  Lent,  and  most  frequently  on  Good  Friday,  when  the  minds 
of  the  inmates  were  concentrated  on  the  Passion.  All  stig- 
matics  were  supposed  to  be  thereby  highly  favored  of 
God. 

There  is  nothing  incredible  or  miraculous  about  these  cases 
of  stigmatization.  Similar  phenomena  have  been  produced 
by  suggestion  on  hypnotic  subjects,  and  although  it  may 
seem  strange  that  the  mind  can  hold  such  a  powerful  sway 
over  the  body,  when  we  witness  these  phenomena  on  hyp- 
notic subjects  through  suggestion  we  can  easily  account  for 
them  on  ecstatic  subjects  through  auto-suggestion.  Even 
without  ecstasy,  hypnotism,  or  allied  states,  we  know  that 
under  strong  emotional  excitement  blood  is  transudated 
through  the  perspiratory  ducts.1  Stigmatization  is  one  form 
of  vesication,  and  it  is  interesting  to  note  in  some  cases  that 
blisters  appear  before  the  blood  or  marks.  Notice,  then, 
what  has  been  experimentally  accomplished  with  hypnotic 
subjects. 

1  W.  B.  Carpenter,  Mental  Physiology,  p.  690. 


82  STIGMATIZATION 

By  applying  a  piece  of  cold  iron  to  the  skin  of  a  hypnotized 
person  and  suggesting  that  it  was  red  hot,  all  the  effects  of  a 
burn  appeared,  the  blisters  being  prominent,  and  suppura- 
tion continuing  for  weeks  afterward.  The  application  of 
common  paper  or  postage  stamps  with  the  suggestion  of  a 
blister  has  been  tried  successfully,  the  blister  appearing 
within  forty-eight  hours  and  continuing  to  discharge  for  some 
time;  the  surrounding  parts  were  also  red  and  inflamed. 
The  same  effect  has  been  accomplished  by  suggesting  that 
pure  water  which  was  applied  to  the  skin  would  cause  a 
blister.  By  accident  too  much  water  was  used  and  it  spread 
over  a  large  surface;  the  whole  wet  surface  blistered.  In 
certain  subjects  a  fixed  spot  on  the  body  may  be  made  to 
appear  red.  This  may  take  place  within  a  few  minutes 
after  the  suggestion  and  remain  this  way  for  some  time. 
For  instance,  cases  are  on  record  where  a  hypnotic  operator 
would  simply  lay  his  finger  on  the  patient's  body  and  tell 
him  that  on  awaking  a  red  spot  would  appear  where  he  was 
touched  by  the  finger.  The  suggestion  was  taken  and  that 
part  of  the  patient's  body  gradually  became  red.  In  another 
case  a  blunt,  smooth  instrument  was  used  to  write  the  sub- 
ject's name  on  his  arm,  and  the  suggestion  was  given  that 
this  writing  would  appear  in  red.  Care  was  taken  that  the 
skin  should  not  be  scratched  or  broken.  The  suggestion 
took  effect,  and  the  name  in  raised  and  red  letters  was  present 
for  weeks.1 

We  may  go  a  step  further  and  report  some  cases  where 
hemorrhage  and  bleeding  stigmata  were  brought  about  by 
suggestion.  In  the  famous  subject  Louis  V.  this  was  done 
several  times.  Professors  Bourru  and  Burot  made  some  ex- 
periments on  a  young  marine  who  was  afflicted  with  hysterio- 
epilepsy.     After  being  hypnotized  the  following  suggestion 

1  Binet  and  Fere,  Animal  Magnetism,  pp.  197-199,  report  a  number 
of  cases. 


STIGMATIZATION  &3 

was  given.  "At  four  o'clock  this  afternoon  after  the  hyp- 
nosis you  will  come  into  my  office,  sit  down  in  the  arm-chair, 
cross  your  arms  upon  your  breast,  and  your  nose  will  begin 
to  bleed."  At  the  appointed  time  the  suggestion  was  carried 
out,  several  drops  of  blood  coming  from  the  left  nostril.  On 
another  occasion,  with  the  same  operator  and  subject,  this 
suggestion  was  made:  "At  four  o'clock  this  afternoon  you 
will  go  to  sleep  and  your  arms  will  bleed  along  the  lines  which 
I  have  traced,  and  your  name  will  appear  written  on  your 
arm  in  letters  of  blood."  The  operator  then  with  a  dull  in- 
strument traced  the  subject's  name  on  both  forearms.  At 
four  o'clock  he  went  to  sleep  and  on  the  left  arm  the  letters 
stood  out  in  bright  red  relief,  and  in  several  places  there  were 
drops  of  blood.  Three  months  later  these  letters  were  still 
visible,  although  they  had  grown  gradually  fainter.  After 
this  subject  had  been  taken  to  the  asylum  similar  experiments 
were  successfully  tried,  and  on  one  occasion,  doubling  his 
personality  through  spontaneous  somnambulism,  he  suggested 
to  himself  hemorrhagic  stigmata  on  his  arm,  which  were  soon 
realized.1  This  furnishes  a  case  parallel  to  the  religious 
bleeding  stigmatics. 

Artigales  and  Remond  published  a  case  of  a  woman  of 
twenty-two  in  whom  tears  of  blood  appeared.  By  suggestion 
it  was  also  possible  to  call  out  bloody  sweat  on  the  palm  of 
her  hand.2  In  one  interesting  case  where  certain  letters  were 
suggested  to  appear,  and  the  letters  were  marked  off  by  the 
operator,  when  they  did  appear  they  were  the  correct  letters, 
but  were  entirely  -different  in  form  and  handwriting  from 
those  suggested.3 

With  these  experimental  cases  in  mind,  when  we  consider 
that  most  of  the  subjects  of  stigmatization  were  ecstatics — 

1  C.  L.  Tuckey,  Treatment  by  Hypnotism  and  Suggestion,  pp.  67-70. 

2  A.  Moll,  Hypnotism,  p.  132  /. 

3  F.  W.  H.  Myers,  Human  Personality,  etc.,  I,  p.  495  /. 


84  STIGMATIZATION 

usually  females  of  strongly  emotional  temperaments— and 
that  there  was  intense  concentration  of  thought  upon  the 
Saviour's  sufferings;  when,  I  say,  we  think  of  their  sym- 
pathetic attention  upon  the  wounds  of  Christ,  and  remem- 
bering the  effect  of  the  mind  upon  the  body,  stigmatization 
ceases  to  be  a  miracle,  and  the  physiological  rationale  is 
apparent.  Many  more  hypnotic  experiments  could  be  cited 
to  prove  the  power  of  the  mind  over  the  vaso-motor  system 
and  the  secretions.  Experiments  which  would  show  quite  as 
remarkable,  if  not  so  spectacular,  phenomena  are  frequently 
performed  in  the  healing  of  disease  by  suggestion.  A  study 
of  the  subject  will  reveal  this  as  a  commonplace  incident. 
The  blood  supply  is  controlled  by  the  vaso-dilator  and  vaso- 
constrictor nerves,  and  these  nerves  are  ruled  by  the  sub- 
consciousness. The  rush  of  blood  to  the  face  or  a  general 
pallor  of  countenance  when  certain  emotions  are  strongly 
felt  are  familiar  sights.  Stigmatization  is  only  a  blush  in 
a  certain  limited  area,  and  in  bleeding  stigmatization  the 
blush  becomes  so  violent  that  the  blood  bursts  through  the 
skin.  A  blush  is  not  an  abnormal  phenomenon,  and  the 
stigmatic  blush  is  but  an  exaggeration  of  this. 

Stigmatics  may  be  divided  into  several  classes  according 
to  the  degree  of  stigmatization  and  the  cause.  First,  then, 
we  have  full  stigmatization  with  the  wounds  or  marks  in 
evidence,  similar  to  the  cases  of  St.  Francis,  St.  Catherine, 
and  others.  In  the  second  place  we  find  some  cases  where 
only  a  portion  of  the  marks  could  be  seen  and  the  others  were 
subjectively  felt,  being  indicated  by  severe  pains.  The  third 
class  is  composed  of  those  on  whom  no  peripheral  markings 
were  apparent,  but  who  claimed  that  impressions  were  made 
upon  the  heart  alone.  Post-mortem  examinations  proved 
this  to  be  true.  In  the  fourth  class  are  those  on  whom  no 
marks  were  made  but  who  suffered  great  pain  in  the  parts  of 
the  body  corresponding  to  the  wounds  of  Christ.     It  seems 


STIGMATIZATION  85 

that  cases  of  the  fourth  class  should  be  eliminated  from  the 
enumeration  as  these  are  not  true  stigmatics.1 

When  we  consider  causes  there  are  three  possible  explana- 
tions. The  first  is  that  of  fraud  where  the  marks  were  pro- 
duced by  designing  persons  on  others  or  by  the  persons 
themselves  for  the  sake  of  notoriety  or  gain,  for  all  stigmatics 
have  thereby  immediately  risen  to  prominence  in  religious 
circles  and  received  much  attention  from  the  curious.  The 
second  explanation  is  self-infliction  by  hysterical  or  ecstatic 
persons  when  in  an  abnormal  state,  the  deceit  being  absolutely 
unknown  to  the  person  when  normal.  In  the  third  class  are 
the  genuine  stigmatics,  and  I  believe  this  to  be  by  far  the  most 
numerous  class.  Miracle  is  not  included  among  the  explana- 
tions. 

The  case  of  stigmatization  which  has  been  most  thoroughly 
examined  from  a  scientific  standpoint  is  the  comparatively 
recent  one  of  Louise  Lateau.2  Next  to  St.  Francis  this  is  un- 
doubtedly the  most  famous  case.  Louise  Lateau  was  born 
at  Bois  d'Haine,  Belgium,  in  1850,  and  died  in  1883.  Up  to 
seventeen  years  of  age  she  was  healthy,  worked  hard,  had 
good  common  sense  with  power  of  self-control,  and  showed 
no  traces  of  hysterical  tendencies.  At  this  time  she  had  an 
exhausting  illness,  and  in  April,  1868,  she  was  thought  to  be 
dying  and  received  the  sacrament.  After  this  she  recovered 
rapidly,  so  that  in  five  days  she  was  able  to  walk  three- 
quarters  of  a  mile  to  the  village  church.  This  was  considered 
miraculous.  Three  days  later,  on  Friday,  the  stigmata  ap- 
peared and  she  discovered  blood  flowing  from  a  wound  in 
her  side.  The  following  Friday  her  feet  were  stigmatized, 
and  one  week  later  bleeding  from  the  backs  and  palms  of  the 
hands  took  place.     About  four  months  after  this  there  were 

Encyclopedia  Britannica,  Art.  "Stigmatization." 
'See   G.    E.    Day,  "Louise    Lateau — A    Biological    Study,"   Mac- 
millan's  Magazine,  XXIII,  pp.  488-498,  for  a  concise  account. 


86  STIGMATIZATION 

added  the  marks  of  thorns  on  her  forehead,  which  was  moist 
with  blood.  These  hemorrhages,  during  which  there  was  a 
loss  of  about  seven-eighths  of  a  quart  of  blood,  continued 
every  Friday  for  at  least  four  years.  On  other  days  these 
wounds  were  red  patches,  dry,  glistening,  and  painless.  Dr. 
Warloment  examined  her  six  years  later  and  found  that  the 
stigmatic  areas  had  become  continuously  painful,  and  that 
there  was  an  additional  mark  on  the  right  shoulder. 

The  anatomical  process  in  her  case  was  a  rather  complicated 
one.  Blisters  first  appeared,  and  after  they  burst  there  was 
bleeding  from  the  true  skin  without  any  visible  injury.  At 
the  time  of  the  beginning  of  the  stigmatization  ecstasy  also 
commenced.  This  was  confined  to  Fridays.  Between  eight 
and  nine  in  the  morning  it  began  abruptly  and  she  became 
apparently  unconscious.  She  had  a  vision  which  she  remem- 
bered on  awaking,  and  enacted  the  Passion  according  to  the 
time  of  day,  until  at  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  she  extended 
her  limbs  in  the  form  of  a  cross.  This  state  terminated  with 
extreme  physical  prostration,  after  which  she  returned  to  her 
normal  condition. 

This  case  has  undergone  a  scrutiny  so  careful  on  the  part 
of  medical  men  determined  to  find  out  the  deceit,  if  such 
should  exist,  that  there  seems  no  adequate  reason  for  doubt- 
ing its  genuineness.  The  Belgian  pathologist,  Warloment, 
after  personal  investigation,  decided  that  simulation  was  im- 
possible and  diagnosed  her  case  as  "stigmatic  neuropathy." 
In  this  the  Salpetriere  School  of  Neurology  agreed,  and  took 
the  position  that  stigmatization  is  only  a  neurotic  phenomenon 
in  hysterical  individuals.  Dr.  Lefebvre,  an  eminent  physician, 
Professor  of  Medicine  at  the  University  of  Louvain,  who  had 
been  for  many  years  in  attendance  at  two  insane  asylums, 
after  a  prolonged  investigation  pronounced  it  miraculous. 
Theodor  Schwann,  the  distinguished  biologist,  also  a  professor 
at  Louvain,  and  himself  a  Roman  Catholic,  refused  after 


STIGMATIZATION  87 

careful  examination  to  admit  the  preternatural  character  of 
the  phenomena.  Virchow  thought  that  fraud  or  miracle 
were  the  only  alternatives.  With  the  additional  light  which 
we  have  had  thrown  on  the  phenomena  by  the  experimental 
data  of  hypnotism,  neurologists  would  hardly  disagree  on  a 
similar  case  to-day.  Louise  Lateau  was  a  member  of  the  third 
order  of  St.  Francis. 

Many  more  cases  might  be  cited,  but  I  will  simply  add  a 
very  brief  account  of  a  recent  one.  A  remarkable  American 
case  was  reported  in  the  Courier-Journal  of  Louisville,  Ky., 
December  7,  1 891,  on  the  authority  of  Dr.  M.  F.  Coomes  and 
several  other  physicians.  Mrs.  Stuckenborg  had  bled  from 
spontaneously  formed  stigmata  on  every  Friday  from  the 
beginning  of  June  of  that  year.  There  were  wounds  on 
her  hands  and  feet,  a  wound  on  her  side  (whence  issued  a 
watery  exudation  tinged  with  blood),  a  cross  on  her  forehead, 
a  large  cross  and  a  heart  on  her  chest,  and  the  letters  I.  H.  S. 
on  her  right  shoulder.  Simulation  was  quite  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. The  patient  seemed  to  desire  neither  money  nor 
notoriety.  She  was  a  devout  Roman  Catholic,  but  did  not 
talk  about  religion.  She  complained  much  of  the  pain  and 
exhaustion  due  to  the  wounds  and  to  a  convulsive  trance 
which  accompanied  the  bleeding  every  Friday.1 

Many  young  converts  are  much  affected  by  the  story  of 
Jesus'  crucifixion,  some  almost  to  the  point  of  stigmatization. 
"Some  press  nails  against  their  hands  to  deepen  their  sym- 
pathy, and  one  describes  how  a  painful  wound  in  the  centre 
of  the  palm  '  brought  me  to  Jesus.'  The  spear  is  less  prom- 
inent, but  every  item  and  detail  of  its  thrust  is  sometimes 
exquisitely  if  not  neurotically  felt.  With  some  the  thorns  are 
the  apex  of  the  pathos,  with  others  the  scourging."  2 

1  F.  W.  H.  Myers,  Human  Personality  and  its  Survival  0}  Bodily 
Death,  I,  p.  495. 

2  G.  S.  Hall,  Adolescence,  II,  p.  334. 


88  STIGMATIZATION 

Hawthorne,  in  his  masterpiece,  The  Scarlet  Letter,  makes 
use  of  the  pathological  phenomenon  of  stigmatization.  In 
the  climax  of  the  story  the  conscience-smitten  clergyman  ap- 
pears on  the  scaffold  with  the  letter  in  blood  red  upon  his 
naked  breast,  a  duplicate  of  the  one  which  his  paramour  was 
forced  by  the  law  to  wear  embroidered  upon  her  breast. 


CHAPTER  IX 

WITCHCRAFT 

"And  so  with  shrieks, 
She  melted  into  air."— Shakespeare. 

In  the  history  of  demonology  we  can  easily  recognize  the 
development  of  this  doctrine  along  two  clearly  denned  lines. 
In  some  instances  the  demon  was  supposed  to  enter  the  in- 
dividual and  control  him  so  that  he  would  be  unable  to  act  ac- 
cording to  his  own  desires;  this  was  called  Demoniacal  Posses- 
sion. At  other  times  the  person  was  thought  to  be  in  league 
with  the  devil  to  control  the  demon  and  use  it  to  further 
malignant  or  benevolent  designs;  this  was  called  Witchcraft. 
Both  forms  of  this  belief  are  very  old  and  were  firmly  held  by 
primitive  peoples.  Demoniacal  Possession  is  still  believed 
to  be  possible  by  some  persons  in  orthodox  churches,  and  is 
affirmed  as  the  explanation  of  certain  phenomena  in  the  early 
centuries  of  the  Christian  era.  Although  an  old  woman  was 
burned  as  a  witch  in  Russia  as  late  as  1889,  and  another  old 
woman  endeavored  to  bewitch  a  man  in  Georgia  in  1890,1 
witchcraft  is  not  accepted  as  a  part  of  general  or  of  Christian 
belief.  Two  centuries  ago,  however,  both  in  Europe  and 
America,  witchcraft  was  held  to  be  more  essential  to  Christian 
doctrine  than  demoniacal  possession  is  to-day.  Disbelief  in 
witches  was  synonymous  with  infidelity,  so  thought  Luther 
and  John  Wesley.  The  latter  said,  "Infidels  know,  whether 
Christians  know  it  or  not,  that  the  giving  up  of  witchcraft  is 
the  giving  up  of  the  Bible." 

1  W.  S.  Nevins,  Witchcraft  in  Salem  Village  in  1692,  p.  22. 

89 


9o 


WITCHCRAFT 


In  early  times  witchcraft  was  a  form  of  magic,  and  was  thus 
connected  with  sorcery  and  conjury.  The  crabbedness  and 
idiosyncrasies  of  age,  misfortunes,  deformities,  and  strange 
actions  were  considered  symptoms  of  witchcraft.  This  was 
especially  true  if  the  suspected  person  were  an  old  woman. 
Bodin  estimates  the  proportion  of  witches  to  wizards  as  not 
less  than  fifty  to  one.1  People  now  known  as  neighbourhood 
gossips,  who  are  always  interfering  with  other  persons'  busi- 
ness, who  tell  secrets  of  the  past  and  prognosticate  concern- 
ing the  future,  who  warn  different  persons  in  the  village  of 
the  certain  miscarriage  of  plans,  and  who  make  themselves 
generally  obnoxious,  would  have  had  to  answer  to  the  accusa- 
tions of  witchcraft  a  few  centuries  ago,  and  might  have  given 
up  their  lives  to  atone  for  unusual  conduct. 

Witches  were  persons  supposed  to  have  made  a  compact 
with  the  devil  to  torture  God's  people  and  sometimes  to  put 
them  to  death.  Prior  to  the  seventeenth  century  they  were 
thought  to  possess  power  to  remove  diseases  as  well  as  to 
inflict  them,  and  they  were  consulted  for  this  purpose.  The 
removal  might  be  by  supposed  transfer  from  the  one  consult- 
ing them  to  some  one  whom  they  disliked,  nevertheless  it 
sometimes  resulted  in  a  cure.  Diseases  could  be  transferred 
to  animals  as  well  as  to  persons,  and  at  one  time  cattle  seldom 
died  of  any  other  trouble  than  witchcraft ;  this  was  sure  to  be 
the  cause  if  an  epidemic  appeared  in  a  herd.  The  trouble 
brought  on  by  one  witch  might  be  removed  by  another. 
Witchcraft  was  such  a  serious  crime  that  persons  were  burned 
at  the  stake  for  curing  as  well  as  causing  diseases  to  cattle  and 
men.2 

Many  witches  were  charged  with  signing  a  book  presented 
to  them  for  signature  by  his  Satanic  Majesty,  this  signature 
being  done  at  times  in  blood.     They  were  given  power  to 

1  H.  Ellis,  Man  and  Woman,  p.  261. 

2  C.  K.  Sharp,  The  History  0]  Witchcraft  in  Scotland,  pp.  45  and  97. 


WITCHCRAFT  91 

ride  through  the  air,  not  always  on  brooms,  especially  if  they 
were  going  to  attend  a  meeting  of  kindred  spirits;  they  then 
resorted  to  desolate  localities,  where  they  held  a  sabbath  or 
religious  festival.  They  offered  worship  to  Satan,  who  was 
present,  and  had  criminal  relations  with  him,  the  principal- 
part  of  the  worship  being  the  Black  Mass,  an  inversion  and 
parody  of  the  ceremony  of  the  mass.  In  this  it  was  not  un- 
like the  present-day  cult  of  Satanism,  which  is  said  to  have 
had  its  principal  adherents  in  the  ill-fated  city  of  Saint  Pierre, 
Martinique.1 

It  was  said  that  witches  could  transform  themselves  into 
animals,  especially  when  they  were  going  to  perform  their 
supernatural  deeds.2  Hares  and  cats  were  the  animals  most 
usually  employed,  but  also  hogs,  dogs,  wolves,  goats,  or  birds 
might  be  used.  They  seemed  to  take  great  delight  in  tor- 
menting and  terrifying  men,  women,  and  children,  and  were 
supposed  to  feed  on  the  flesh  of  the  latter  when  attending 
banquets  with  the  devil.  Magical  potions  were  employed  in 
which  toads,  snakes,  and  other  reptiles  were  used  in  the  prep- 
aration. The  witch  might  tie  knots  in  ropes  while  repeating 
certain  formulae,  and  by  this  means  a  victim  was  strangled, 
his  mouth  sealed,  limbs  racked,  or  entrails  torn.3  Effigies 
were  made  of  some  soft  material  like  wax,  and  either  burned 
or  injured  by  running  long  needles  into  them;  this  tortured 
the  original  of  the  effigy  whom  it  was  desired  to  afflict.  In- 
visible needles  might  be  run  into  persons  without  the  aid  of 
figures  made  to  represent  them.  The  evil  eye  fixed  on 
victims  was  sure  to  produce  disastrous  results.  Not  only  did 
witches  injure  people  and  animals,  but  their  powers  and 
spells  extended  further.  They  blasted  corn,  grapes,  fruit, 
and  herbs  in  the  fields,  and  spoiled  milk,  eggs,  and  butter  in 

1  New  International  Encyclopedia,  Art.  "Witchcraft."  2  Ibid. 

3  O.  C.  Whitehouse,  "Magic,"  Hastings'  Bible  Dictionary,  III,  pp. 
206  #. 


92  WITCHCRAFT 

the  farmyards.  Perhaps  the  extraordinary  powers  attributed 
to  witches  can  best  be  shown  by  reciting  a  few  brief  cases. 

In  1657,  Richard  Jones,  a  lad  of  twelve  years,  living  at 
Shepton  Mallet,  England,  was  bewitched  by  one  Jane  Brooks. 
He  was  seen  to  rise  in  the  air  and  pass  over  a  garden  wall 
some  thirty  yards.  At  one  time  he  was  found  in  a  room 
with  his  hands  flat  against  a  beam  at  the  top  of  the  room,  and 
his  body  two  or  three  feet  from  the  ground;  nine  people  saw 
him  in  this  position.  Jane  Brooks  was  accordingly  condemned 
and  executed  at  the  Chard  Assizes,  in  March,  1658.1 

In  1664,  at  Saint  Edmondsbury,  Suffolk,  two  widows, 
Amy  Duny  and  Rose  Cullender,  were  indicted  for  bewitching 
six  young  girls  and  one  baby  boy.  The  country  doctor,  on 
being  consulted  when  the  baby  had  fainting  fits,  told  the 
mother  to  hang  the  baby's  blanket  on  the  chimney  corner  all 
day,  and  at  night  if  anything  strange  came  from  it  not  to  fear 
but  to  throw  it  in  the  fire.  When  the  blanket  was  taken  down 
a  toad  fell  out,  and  on  being  cast  into  the  fire  there  was  a 
flash  and  an  explosion,  and  the  toad  vanished.  That  same 
evening  Amy  Duny  had  her  face  scorched.  That  proved 
that  Amy  was  the  toad.  The  baby's  sister  became  suddenly 
sick  and  died,  and  the  mother  became  so  lame  that  she  had 
to  use  crutches;  this  was  thought  to  be  Amy's  revenge  for 
being  cast  into  the  fire.  When  Amy  was  condemned  and  her 
power  ceased,  the  lame  woman  threw  away  her  crutches  and 
was  well;  this  demonstrated  Amy's  guilt.  The  other  chil- 
dren complained  of  "griping  pains,  and  vomited  crooked 
pins  and  two-penny  nails."  At  the  trial  the  children  had 
convulsions  when  approached  by  the  women,  but  were  like- 
wise convulsed  when  blindfolded  and  approached  by  others. 
Nevertheless  the  other  evidence  was  so  strong  that  the  widows 
were  sentenced  and  hanged  at  Cambridge.2 

1  W.  B.  Carpenter,  Mental  Physiology,  p.  634. 

2  John  Fiske,  New  France  and  New  England,  p.  138. 


WITCHCRAFT  93 

In  1692,  at  Salem,  Mass.,  Susannah  Martin  was  condemned 
for  witchcraft  because  she  walked  over  a  muddy  country 
road  on  a  rainy  day  without  soiling  her  hose  or  skirts;  this 
could  only  be  accomplished  by  the  help  of  the  devil.1 

In  1696,  at  Bargarran,  Renfrewshire,  Scotland,  Christian 
Shaw,  a  girl  of  eleven  years,  had  violent  fits  of  leaping, 
dancing,  running,  crying,  and  fainting,  from  August  of  that 
year  to  the  following  March.  Witchcraft  was  suspected,  a 
commission  was  appointed,  and  a  court  was  instituted. 
After  the  trial  twenty  women  were  condemned  to  the  flames, 
and  the  sentence  was  faithfully  executed  on  five  of  them  at 
Paisley,  on  June  10,  1697.2 

In  1 716,  Mrs.  Hicks  and  her  daughter  aged  nine  years 
were  hanged  at  Huntington,  England,  "for  selling  their 
souls  to  the  devil;  tormenting  and  destroying  their  neighbours 
by  making  them  vomit  pins;  raising  a  storm  so  that  a  ship 
was  almost  lost  by  pulling  off  her  stockings  and  making  a 
lather  soap."  3 

It  seems  remarkable  to  us  in  these  days  that  persons  could 
be  convicted  of  witchcraft,  and  we  are  liable  to  question  the 
honesty  of  the  courts.  Before  doing  this  it  is  well  for  us  to 
consider  the  evidence.  The  evidence  was  undoubtedly 
sufficiently  strong  had  it  been  good;  the  sources  would  be 
considered  unreliable  to-day,  but  in  those  days  were  thought 
to  be  thoroughly  trustworthy.  We  must  remember  that 
judges,  juries,  prosecutors,  accused,  and  spectators  believed 
in  witchcraft  as  an  established  fact,  and  the  disposition  to 
believe  in  it  changed  irrelevant  facts  into  evidence  in  its 
favor.  The  supposition,  then,  was  in  favor  of  conviction, 
for  if  witchcraft  were  a  fact  some  one  must  be  guilty,  and  the 

1  John  Fiske,  New  France  and  New  England,  p.  168. 

2  J.  F.  C.  Hecker,  The  Epidemics  of  the  Middle  Ages,  p.  108;  W. 
Scott,  Letters  on  Demonology  and  Witchcraft,  pp.  268  ff. 

3  C.  Knight,  History  0}  England,  Ch.  CXLIV. 


94 


WITCHCRAFT 


accused  were  most  likely  to  be  the  ones.  Roger  North  tells 
of  one  poor  old  woman  who  was  accused  of  witchcraft  by  a 
neighbour.  This  neighbour  testified  that  he  saw  a  cat  jump 
into  the  accused  person's  cottage  window  at  twilight,  one 
evening,  and  that  he  verily  believed  the  said  cat  to  be  the 
devil;  on  this  weighty  evidence  the  poor  wretch  was  accord- 
ingly hanged.1 

We  must  further  remember  that  the  phenomena  of  hallu- 
cinations, trance,  hypnotism,  and  hysteria  were  entirely  un- 
known, and  what  to  us  is  a  ready  explanation  was  wanting  to 
them.  If  the  judges  were  sure  that  there  was  no  fraud  con- 
nected with  the  case,  guilt  was  the  only  alternative.  The 
evidence  was  of  four  kinds:  i.  Fraud;  this  was  a  small  pro- 
portion. 2.  Suspicion  of  some  stranger  or  queer  acting 
person  to  explain  the  trouble.  3.  Genuine  and  trustworthy 
evidence  of  the  facts  supposed  to  prove  witchcraft.  It  is 
notorious  that  this  was  almost  entirely  from  uneducated 
persons  and  children.  4.  Confessions,  frequently  extracted 
by  torture  or  intimidation.  An  enormous  mass  of  evidence 
was  of  this  character. 

There  was,  of  course,  opportunity  for  fraud.  During  the 
most  active  part  of  the  witchcraft  persecutions  the  Church  of 
Rome  was  trying  to  stamp  out  heresy,  and  persons  obnoxious 
to  it  could  be  destroyed  on  this  charge.  In  some  cases  a 
charge  of  witchcraft  was  only  a  method  of  getting  rid  of  a 
personal  enemy  or  of  confiscating  the  property  of  the  rich. 
Sometimes  the  accusation  started  with  deceit  devoid  of  malice, 
but  after  starting  the  rumor  the  accusers  became  involved  to 
such  an  extent  that  it  was  necessary  to  continue  the  deceit  to 
save  themselves  even  if  it  destroyed  others.  This  was  prob- 
ably the  situation  in  the  Salem  cases.2    It  may  also  be  true 

1  W.  Scott,  Letters  on  Demonology  and  Witchcraft,  p.  217. 

2  See  also  case  W.  Scott,  Letters  on  Demonology  and  Witchcraft,  pp. 
193  #• 


WITCHCRAFT  95 

that  in  these  cases  the  girls  were  so  excited  and  carried  along 
by  their  imaginations  and  the  suggestions  of  others  that  they 
came  to  believe  what  at  first  was  their  own  mere  fancy. 

Salem  reveals  a  partisan  factor  in  the  accusations.  The 
first  evidence  was  given  by  the  daughter  and  niece  of  Samuel 
Parris,  the  minister,  Elizabeth  Parris,  aged  nine,  and  Abigail 
Williams,  aged  eleven,  and  the  daughter  of  the  parish  clerk, 
Ann  Putnam,  aged  twelve.  Mrs.  Putnam,  mother  of  Ann, 
a  neurotic  from  a  mentally  unsound  family,  did  much  to 
influence  the  girls.  From  the  beginning,  Parris  was  the 
prime  mover  and  persecutor  in  the  awful  tragedy.  If  the 
girls  or  other  young  witnesses  were  called  upon  to  say  who 
had  troubled  them,  they  would  naturally  think  of  those  of 
whom  they  had  heard  uncomplimentary  things  said  at  home. 

There  was  a  quarrel  in  Parris'  church  and  he  had  a  rival 
for  the  pastorate  in  George  Burroughs,  a  noble  man  who  dis- 
believed in  and  openly  expressed  his  contempt  for  witch- 
craft. Parris  seized  this  opportunity  to  rid  himself  of  his 
enemy  by  the  aid  of  the  superstition  of  the  community,  but 
at  the  execution  of  Burroughs  the  people  broke  into  moans 
and  moved  to  rescue  him.  Giles  Corey,  the  octogenarian 
martyr  who  alone  suffered  death  by  the  pressing  of  heavy 
stones  piled  on  him,  was  one  who  opposed  Parris  in  the 
church  quarrel.  It  is  a  very  significant  fact  that  out  of  the 
first  seventy-five  persons  arrested  and  sent  to  prison,  not  one 
partisan  of  Parris  was  among  them;  this  may  be  true  of  the 
total  number.  With  these  facts  before  us,  it  is  difficult  to 
exclude  the  idea  of  malice  from  the  persecution. 

Salem  presents  us  with  a  paradox,  if  not  another  instance 
of  fraud.  It  would  be  humorous  if  it  were  not  so  tragic. 
The  real  crime  seems  to  have  been  not  witchcraft,  but  the 
denial  of  the  doctrine.  The  truth  of  the  writing  and  preach- 
ing on  the  subject  was  to  be  established  by  hanging  any  one 
who  denied  it.    Any  one  who  confessed  witchcraft  was  freed 


96  WITCHCRAFT 

— this  was  sure  to  procure  liberation ;  it  was  the  person  who 
denied  being  a  witch,  or  who  denied  the  existence  of  such  a 
thing,  who  suffered  death.  Edward  Bishop  cured  John 
Indian,  his  accuser,  who  fell  down  before  him  pretending  to 
be  under  Satanic  influence,  with  a  sound  flogging,  and  said 
that  he  could  heal  the  others  who  were  afflicted  in  the  same 
manner.  He  and  his  wife  were  immediately  arrested  and 
condemned.1  What  for?  Not  for  witchcraft,  but  for  dis- 
belief in  it.  Yet  there  is  one  bright  spot  in  the  sad  affair. 
Although  some  of  the  accused  were  terrified  into  a  confession 
and  liberated,  every  one  of  the  twenty  who  were  put  to  death 
died  protesting  innocence  when  they  knew  confession  would 
have  saved  them.  If  the  people  of  America,  or  of  Massa- 
chusetts, ever  wish  to  raise  a  shaft  to  martyrs  who  died  for 
the  truth,  it  should  be  placed  at  Salem. 

By  misrepresentation  Cotton  Mather  suffered  only  second 
to  the  victims.2  In  practically  all  accounts  of  the  Salem 
tragedy  he  is  represented  as  the  tyrant  who  inspired  and 
assisted  Parris,  accused  the  innocent,  and  relentlessly  drove 
the  executioners  to  their  cruel  tasks.  Most  recent  investiga- 
tion seems  to  disprove  all  this.  As  a  man  he  had  a  loving 
heart  and  generous  sympathies.  He  believed  in  witchcraft, 
as  most  persons  did;  but  had  his  rules  of  evidence  been  fol- 
lowed, not  one  execution  would  have  taken  place.  He  be- 
lieved in  treating  cases  privately,  and  so  took  little  Martha 
Goodwin  into  his  own  home  and  cured  her.  Parris'  method 
was  publicity,  force,  and  execution;  Mather's  was  privacy, 
suasion,  and  only  execution  when  necessary  and  when  no 
uncertainty  prevailed.  Cotton  Mather  has  been  for  two 
centuries  much  misunderstood,  a  maligned  Christian  gentle- 
man.   Had  Mather  been  in  control  in  Salem,  the  last  witch 

1  J.  C.  Ridpath,  History  of  the  United  States,  Ch.  XVI,  p.  151. 

2  J.  Fiske,  New  France  and  New  England,  pp.  150  fj.;  cj.  J.  C.  Rid- 
path, History  oj  the  United  States,  Ch.  XVI,  pp.  151  f}. 


WITCHCRAFT 


97 


epidemic  in  the  history  of  civilized  nations  would  never  have 
existed. 

Something  further  must  be  said  concerning  the  evidence. 
King  James  I,  who  published  a  treatise  on  demonology  in 
1597,  in  speaking  on  this  subject,  says  that  the  crime  is  so 
abominable  that  evidence  which  would  not  be  received 
against  any  other  offence  may  prove  this.  Young  children 
who  knew  not  the  nature  of  an  oath  and  persons  of  infamous 
character  were  sufficient  witnesses  against  witches.  If  James 
could  have  written  of  Salem  he  could  not  have  more  correctly 
described  the  witnesses.  Look  at  them — two  barbarous 
Indians,  John  Indian  and  Titula,  both  saturated  in  demon- 
ology, nine  girls  between  the  ages  of  nine  and  twenty,  and 
the  vindictive  and  half-crazed  Mrs.  Putnam.  While  Ann 
Putnam  was  a  child  of  but  twelve  years  and  descended  from 
a  family  afflicted  with  nervousness  and  hysteria,  her  power  of 
life  and  death  for  a  few  months  exceeded  that  of  judge  and 
jury.  In  the  whole  history  of  witchcraft,  children  have  been 
the  principal  witnesses,  the  reason  for  this  being  their  sug- 
gestibleness. 

During  the  crusade  against  witchcraft  certain  experts  arose 
who  procured  evidence,  and  instructed  others  in  the  best 
methods  of  discovering  criminals.  Certain  statements  were 
sufficient  to  condemn,  and  in  Europe,  otherwise  than  in  Sa- 
lem, it  was  witchcraft  which  was  the  crime  rather  than  the  de- 
nial of  the  doctrine.  The  witch  finders  had  certain  questions 
which  they  always  asked  the  suspects,  e.g.,  "Do  you  have 
midnight  meetings  with  the  devil?"  "Do  you  attend  witches' 
sabbaths?"  "Can  you  produce  whirlwinds?"  Nor  would 
they  be  satisfied  with  negative  answers,  but  the  most  excru- 
ciating tortures  were  employed  to  elicit  affirmations. 

As  an  example  of  the  refinement  to  which  the  art  of  torture 
developed,  the  experience  of  Dr.  Fian,  of  Edinburg,  in  1591, 
may  be  cited.    After  the  rack  proved  ineffectual,  the  boots  were 


98  WITCHCRAFT 

tried,  and  during  this  he  fainted  from  pain.  Later  his  finger- 
nails were  riven  out  with  pincers,  and  long  needles  thrust 
their  entire  length  into  the  quick.  Again  he  was  consigned 
to  the  boots  and  was  kept  there  "so  long,  and  abode  so  many 
blows  in  them  that  his  legs  were  crushed  and  beaten  together 
as  small  as  might  be,  and  the  bones  and  flesh  so  bruised  that 
the  blood  and  marrow  spouted  forth  in  great  abundance."  l 

The  awful  condition  of  the  accused  may  be  gathered  from  the 
following  quotation:  "In  Europe  the  act  of  suicide  was  very 
common  among  the  witches,  who  underwent  all  the  sufferings 
with  none  of  the  consolations  of  martyrdom.  Without  en- 
thusiasm, without  hope,  without  even  the  consciousness  of 
innocence,  decrepit  in  body,  and  distracted  in  mind,  com- 
pelled in  this  world  to  endure  torture,  before  which  the  most 
impassioned  heroism  might  quail,  and  doomed,  as  they  often 
believed,  to  eternal  damnation  in  the  next,  they  not  infre- 
quently killed  themselves  in  the  agony  of  despair.  A  French 
judge,  named  Remy,  tells  us  that  he  knew  no  less  than 
fifteen  witches  commit  suicide  in  a  single  year."  2  Spren- 
ger  noticed  the  same  tendency  among  the  witches  he 
tried. 

Witches  were  supposed  to  be  unable  to  repeat  the  Lord's 
Prayer,  although  Burroughs  did  on  the  scaffold  at  Salem; 
even  the  faltering  pronunciation  of  one  word  was  sufficient 
to  prove  guilt.  If  the  spectre  of  a  person  was  seen  by  a 
neighbor  this  was  sufficient  to  prove  the  former  a  witch. 
This  was  called  "spectral  evidence."  At  Salem,  Parris 
preached  on  the  text,  "Have  not  I  chosen  you  twelve  .and 
one  of  you  is  a  devil?"  One  woman  went  out  of  church, 
and  she  was  immediately  sent  to  prison  as  a  witch.  No  more 
than  three  tears  could  be  shed  by  the  guilty,  no  matter  how 
hard  they  tried,  and  water,  the  element  with  which  a  person 

1  B.  Sidis,  The  Psychology  of  Suggestion,  p.  335. 

2  W.  E.  H.  Lecky,  History  oj  European  Morals,  II,  p.  54. 


WITCHCRAFT  99 

was  baptized,  refused  to  receive  the  body  of  a  witch.  Mat- 
thew Hopkins,1  the  English  "Witchfinder  General,"  used 
the  latter  as  a  favorite  test.  He  took  the  suspected  person 
and  tied  the  right  thumb  to  the  great  toe  of  the  left  foot,  and 
the  left  thumb  to  the  great  toe  of  the  right  foot.  Then  wrap- 
ping the  victims  in  heavy  blankets  they  were  laid  on  their 
backs  in  a  pond  or  river.  If  they  sank  and  were  drowned, 
they  were  innocent;  but  if  they  floated  they  were  guilty,  and 
were  speedily  taken  out  and  burned  alive.  One  of  the  surest 
tests  was  the  finding  of  witch  spots.  These  were  spots  on 
persons  which  were  painless  when  needles  were  run  into  the 
flesh.  Hence  the  witchfinders  carried  with  them  long 
needles  which  they  used  on  those  who  were  accused.  By 
evidence  such  as  this  and  procured  in  this  barbarous  fashion, 
about  300,000  persons  perished  from  the  witchcraft  crusade 
in  the  16th  and  17th  centuries.  Children  as  young  as  five 
years,  and  even  dogs,  lost  their  lives  on  this  charge.2 

How  can  these  facts  be  explained  psychologically?  The 
main  factor  in  the  explanation,  the  phemonenon  of  mental 
epidemics,  must  be  left  for  future  discussion  with  other  ex- 
periences of  a  similar  character.  However,  some  of  the 
minor  and  yet  important  facts  call  for  treatment  here.  In 
discussing  the  evidence,  we  have  already  mentioned  some  of 
the  causes  at  Salem — the  general  belief  in  witchcraft,  the 
malice  of  Parris,  and  the  unintentional  part  which  the  Salem 
girls  at  first  took.  On  the  latter  point  let  me  add  this  fact: 
in  1688  a  woman  named  Goodwin  was  tried  and  sent  to  the 
gallows  for  bewitching  some  children  in  Boston.  It  is  not 
unlikely  that  an  account  of  the  antics  of  the  Boston  children 
was  recited  in  the  Salem  minister's  home,  and  by  suggestion, 
either  voluntarily  or  involuntarily,  the  same  antics  were  re- 

lW.  Scott,  Letters  on  Demonology  and  Witchcraft,  pp.  206-211; 
B.  Sidis,  Psychology  of  Suggestion,  p.  338/. 

2  W.  Scott,  Letters  on  Demonology  and  Witchcraft,  p.  226. 


ioo  WITCHCRAFT 

peated  by  the  children  who  heard  it  there.  The  impression- 
able child  minds  were  diseased  by  the  very  suggestion. 

But  back  of  this,  before  the  Salem  tragedy,  before  the 
European  epidemic,  some  other  explanation  must  be  given. 
The  persons  who  propounded  the  witch  theory  were  the 
forerunners  of  the  modern  scientist;  they  tried  to  give  a 
theory  which  would  explain.  Of  course  we  recognize  now 
that  their  reasoning  was  post  hoc  ergo  propter  hoc,  but  in 
that  they  have  had  the  company  of  many  scientists  of  high 
repute.  To  the  primitive  mind  all  death  was  murder,  and 
the  guilty  was  either  some  superhuman  power  whose  good 
will  the  tribe  must  try  to  regain,  or  some  human  being  who 
must  be  punished.  Thus,  when  sickness  or  some  other  dis- 
aster came  to  primitive  people,  they  naturally  asked,  "What 
is  the  cause?"  or,  as  it  would  frame  itself  in  the  savage  mind, 
"  Who  is  the  cause  ?  "  No  other  cause  being  suggested,  when 
the  search  becomes  hot  some  one  mentions  a  sorceress  who 
claims  to  accomplish  much  by  her  spells.  Suggestion  imme- 
diately becomes  belief  on  account  of  the  emotional  state  of 
the  people,  and  then  the  blame  is  fixed.  Witchcraft  there- 
fore became  an  established  fact,  and  later  when  disaster 
could  be  accounted  for  in  no  other  way,  this  was  a  ready 
explanation,  and  there  was  no  difficulty  in  discovering  the 
witch.  This  state  of  affairs  was  much  exaggerated  by  the 
doctrine,  amounting  almost  to  an  equal  belief  in  a  good  and 
an  evil  divinity. 

A  scrutiny  of  the  evidence  will  reveal  further  that  the 
testimony  was  not  only  almost  entirely  that  of  women  and 
children,  but  it  was  given  at  a  time  when  their  minds  were 
disordered  by  the  excited  state  of  the  community,  and  when 
suggestions  were  given  one  day  which  developed  into  evidence 
on  the  next.  Concerning  the  miraculous  powers  of  riding 
through  the  air  and  transformation  into  animals,  there  is  no 
first-hand  evidence,  even  from  the  most  illiterate,  that  these 


WITCHCRAFT  101 

were  ever  witnessed.  The  latter  belief  probably  came  as  a 
false  inference,  as  in  the  case  of  Amy  Duny,  the  suspected 
witch  who  was  injured  on  the  day  when  the  animal  asso- 
ciated with  her  was  injured. 

The  most  valuable  evidence  was  that  given  by  the  accused 
in  the  form  of  voluntary  confession,  that  which  had  not  been 
extracted  by  torture.1  The  evidence  was  true  to  the  best  of 
the  knowledge  and  belief  of  the  witness.  The  witness  was 
sane  enough,  but  was  unable  to  distinguish  self -suggested  hal- 
lucinations from  waking  facts,  for  we  know  that  subjective 
hallucinations  may  appear  absolutely  real  to  the  percipient. 
Hallucinations  may  easily  be  produced  by  hypnotic  sugges- 
tion, and  are  also  frequent  in  spontaneous  trance  and  hysteria, 
both  of  which  latter  conditions  are  contagious,  and  all  of 
which  were  no  doubt  frequently  present  in  witchcraft.  Not 
only  at  the  time  of  the  hysterical  attacks,  but  after  they  had 
passed,  these  persons  believed  in  the  reality  of  the  halluci- 
natory scenes.  On  this  account  they  confessed  all  manner  of 
strange  sins  and  endured  with  stubborn  firmness  the  pangs  of 
martyrdom  rather  than  renounce  their  belief  in  their  inter- 
course with  the  devil  and  their  participation  in  orgies  which 
had  taken  place  only  in  their  hysterical  hallucinations.2 
This  is  why  the  questioning  of  the  witchfinders  was  at  times 
so  successful.  Occasionally  some  confessed,  preferring  death 
to  the  ignominy  which  would  always  cling  to  them  on  ac- 
count of  the  accusation  which  had  been  made  against  them.3 
It  is  also  true  that  because  of  the  excited  state  of  the  com- 
munity many  confessed  witchcraft  on  the  testimony  of 
others. 

The  witch  spots,  called  ''stigmata  diaboli,"  those  insen- 
sible patches  on  the  bodies  of  the  suspected,  were  undoubt- 

1 W.  Scott,  Letters  on  Demonology  and  Witchcraft,  pp.  123-130. 

1  E.  Parish,  Hallucinations  and  Illusions,  p.  36. 

*  W.  Scott,  Letters  on  Demonology  and  Witchcraft,  p.  239. 


io2  WITCHCRAFT 

edly  really  anaesthetic.1  This  was  the  first  discovery  of  a 
phenomenon  which  is  now  well  known,  the  zones  analgesiques 
of  hysterical  and  hypnotic  patients,  so  carefully  studied  by 
Charcot.  In  fact,  in  hysteria,  spontaneous  analgesia  is  the 
rule.  It  varies  in  degree,  position,  and  extent,  not  only  in 
different  persons,  but  in  the  same  person  at  different  times.2 
We  can  now  see  that  witchcraft  was  an  awful  mistake,  a 
great  tragedy  conducted  at  the  expense  of  hysterical  persons 
by  ignorant  inquisitors.  All  of  the  phenomena  are  common 
to-day,  but  we  explain  them  differently.  The  experiments 
made  upon  the  hysterical  might  have  been  scientifically 
valuable  had  they  not  resulted  in  such  murderous  conclu- 
sions. Occasionally  we  find  some  evidence  of  perspicacity 
on  the  part  of  the  court.  At  Ipswich,  in  1652,  John  Brad- 
street  confessed  to  having  conversation  with  the  devil,  where- 
upon the  jury  found  that  the  said  Bradstreet  lied,  and  the 
judge  sentenced  him  to  pay  a  fine  of  twenty  shillings,  or  to 
be  whipped.3 

If  we  examine  the  general  decline  in  the  belief  in  witch- 
craft we  find  that  it  was  not  killed  by  discussion  or  argu- 
ment, but  it  perished  by  neglect  on  the  one  hand,  and  by  the 
development  of  science  and  natural  law  on  the  other.  Salem 
shows  us  an  epidemic  reaction — the  people  were  stunned  by 
the  awfulness  of  the  affair,  and  a  change  came  in  a  few  weeks 
or  months.  This  was  first  apparent  among  the  common 
people,  for  the  juries  changed  before  the  judges  and  failed 
to  convict,  and  the  judges  changed  before  the  clergy,  although 
before  this  the  clergy  warned  the  judges  not  to  rely  upon 
"spectral  evidence"  nor  upon  physical  effects  wrought  upon 
the  accusers  in  the  presence  of  the  accused.     Increase  Math- 

1  F.  W.  H.  Myers,  Human  Personality  and  its  Survival  of  Bodily 
Death,  I,  p.  4. 

2  T.  Ribot,  The  Psychology  of  the  Emotions,  p.  32. 

3  J.  Fiske,  New  France  and  New  England,  p.  148. 


WITCHCRAFT  103 

er's  discovery  that  the  accusers,  rather  than  the  accused, 
might  be  the  real  victims  of  Satan's  wiles,  did  much  to  end 
the  persecutions.1 

The  last  legal  execution  for  witchcraft  in  England  took 
place  in  1682.  Lynching  for  this  supposed  crime  was  com- 
mitted as  late  as  1751;  this  led  to  the  immediate  abolition  of 
the  statute  of  James  I.2  In  the  last  trial  the  judge  saved  the 
victim.  Jane  Wenham,  the  witch  of  Walkerne,  was  found 
guilty  under  the  statute  of  James  I,  and  was  condemned  to  die 
in  March,  171 2.  The  prosecutors  were  Sir  Henry  Chauncy, 
knight,  the  learned  author  of  the  Historical  Antiquities  0} 
Hertfordshire,  and  the  reverend  incumbent  of  Jane  Wen- 
ham's  parish.  The  judge,  Powell,  was  happily  in  advance 
of  his  times  and  reprieved  the  unfortunate  creature,  very 
much  to  the  scandal  of  the  stupid  jury  and  the  learned 
prosecutors.3  The  last  execution  of  a  Scottish  witch  took 
place  in  Sutherland  in  1722,  and  in  1735  the  statutes  against 
witchcraft  were  repealed.  In  Germany,  Maria  Renata,  a 
nun,  was  beheaded  for  witchcraft  in  1749.4  The  last  case 
of  witchcraft  in  Massachusetts  was  in  1793,  when  the  gover- 
nor abolished  trials,  and  juries  failed  to  convict.5 

1  G.  P.  Fisher,  History  of  the  Christian  Church,  p.  480. 

2  W.  Scott,  Letters  on  Demonology  and  Witchcraft,  pp.  218  and  221. 

3  C.  Knight,  History  of  England,  Chap.  CXLIV. 

4  J.  Fiske,  New  France  and  New  England,  p.  143. 

5  W.  S.  Nevins,  Witchcraft  in  Salem  Village  in  1692,  p.  30.  The 
reader  will  find  a  most  interesting  and  instructive  resume  of  the 
Witchcraft  epidemic  in  C.  Mackay,  Extraordinary  Popular  Delusions, 
II,  pp.  101-191. 


CHAPTER  X 

DEMONIACAL  POSSESSION 

"Diseased  nature  oft-times  breaks  forth 
In  strange  eruptions." — Shakespeare. 

In  some  form  demoniacal  possession  is  accepted  by  many 
Christian  people  to-day.  Some  think  that  it  is  experienced 
at  the  present  time  by  certain  persons  everywhere,  others 
opine  that  the  manifestations  are  confined  to  heathen  coun- 
tries. Some  believe  it  is  possible,  but  do  not  credit  any 
specific  examples;  while  others  hold  that  the  day  of  posses- 
sion is  past,  but  that  it  was  a  special  manifestation  at  the 
beginning  of  the  Christian  era. 

One  might  reasonably  ask  why  witchcraft  is  now  con- 
sidered a  relic  of  barbarism  and  ignorance,  while  demoniacal 
possession  is  still  retained,  when  they  are  both  forms  of  de- 
monology  closely  related.  If  any  difference  is  to  be  noted 
from  a  scientific  standpoint,  witchcraft  has  rather  the  more 
convincing  evidence.  Both  are  taught  in  the  Bible,  and  the 
Mosaic  command,  "Thou  shalt  not  suffer  a  witch  to  live," 
was  the  foundation  for  the  great  persecution  in  the  Middle 
Ages.  There  is  no  similar  command  concerning  demoniacs. 
The  difference  in  the  status  of  the  two  doctrines,  however,  is 
due  to  the  importance  which  Jesus  seemed  to  attach  to  the 
one  and  His  silence  concerning  the  other. 

Some  Christians  believe  that  to  eliminate  demoniacal  pos- 
session from  their  tenets  would  entail  a  lack  of  faith  in  Jesus 
as  the  Saviour,  just  as  Wesley  and  Mather  thought  that  to 
give  up  witchcraft  was  to  give  up  the  Bible.     Witchcraft  has 

104 


DEMONIACAL  POSSESSION  105 

been  given  up  and  the  Bible  still  stands;  some  to-day  do  not 
posit  the  influence  of  demons  as  the  cause  of  certain  phenomena 
and  yet  they  cling  to  Jesus  as  the  Saviour.  Both  the  Bible  and 
our  Saviour  are  stronger  than  some  of  their  friends  believe, 
and  do  not  succumb  when  a  doubtful  prop  is  removed. 

Let  us  first  consider  briefly  the  relation  of  Jesus  to  demon- 
ism.  There  is  no  doubt  that  in  the  reports  we  have  of  Jesus' 
connection  with  demoniacs  He  acts  and  speaks  as  though 
He  believed  it  were  a  genuine  phenomenon  caused  by  the 
influence  of  evil  spirits.  We  must  not  forget,  however,  that 
the  reporters'  minds  were  filled  with  the  current  ideas  of 
demonism.  There  seems  at  first  sight  to  be  no  middle 
ground — no  halting-place — between  the  view  that  what  Jesus 
said  must  be  true,  and  that  His  attitude  toward  demoniacal 
possession  was  an  example  of  the  theory  of  Kenosis,  i.  e., 
that  in  the  incarnation  He  limited  His  knowledge  to  that  of 
mankind.  The  theory  of  accommodation  is  the  only  half- 
way house.  In  this  theory  its  advocates  claim  that  Jesus, 
while  knowing  the  true  state  of  the  case,  accommodated 
Himself  to  the  people  among  whom  He  worked  and  the 
language  of  the  times  in  which  He  lived.  In  speaking  of  the 
afflicted  as  demoniacs  He  no  more  believed  they  were  pos- 
sessed by  demons  than  a  person  to-day  believes  that  an  un- 
fortunate is  moon-struck  if  he  calls  him  a  lunatic; *  the 
limitations  of  the  language  and  the  understanding  of  the 
people  are  to  blame. 

The  supposed  connection  between  possession  and  mental 
derangement  in  New  Testament  times  is  shown  in  John  10:  20, 
"He  hath  a  demon  and  is  mad." 

Further,  in  His  dealings  with  demoniacs  He  used  the  only 
language  which  psychologically  could  possibly  be  successful 

1  Consult  T.  H.  Wright,  "Lunatic,"  Hastings'  Dictionary  0}  Christ, 
etc.,  II,  pp.  91  fj. ;  and  W.  O.  E.  Oesterley,  "  Demon,"  Ibid,  I,  pp. 
438  #• 


106  DEMONIACAL  POSSESSION 

if  a  cure  were  to  be  accomplished,  and  language  which  would 
be  both  proper  and  efficacious  in  dealing  with  a  mentally 
unsound  person  to-day.  Insanity  was  quite  common  in  the 
East,  and  yet  we  do  not  read  of  Jesus'  curing  one  case.  The 
symptoms  of  demoniacal  possession  given  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment and  those  of  mania  and  epilepsy  correspond  so  closely 
that  many  think  these  cases  were  similar  to  modern  cases, 
only  that  a  different  explanation  was  given.  When  we  come 
to  consider  the  part  which  demons  were  supposed  to  play  in 
disease,  this  will  become  more  apparent.  One  ingenious 
theory,  which  hardly  fits  the  case,  however,  takes  account  of 
this  in  the  following  manner:  The  phenomena  of  the  New 
Testament  are  genuine  and  consist  of  two  factors;  the  first  is 
insanity  and  epilepsy,  and  forms  the  natural  element,  cases 
of  which  were  successfully  used  by  demons.  The  super- 
natural element  was  the  recognition  and  confession  of  Jesus 
as  the  Messiah;  this  was  the  characteristic  part — the  mark 
of  demoniacal  possession.1  We  leave  this  discussion  to  take 
up  a  description  of  the  phenomena. 

The  belief  in  demoniacal  possession  (this  term  is  not  found 
in  the  New  Testament,  but  originated  with  Josephus)  existed 
in  the  ancient  civilizations  of  Egypt,  Babylonia,  Persia,  Judea, 
Greece,  and  Rome.  It  held  an  important  place  in  the  beliefs 
of  Christian  nations  until  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
is  held  by  a  portion  of  Christian  people  to-day,  and  by  the 
mass  of  the  inhabitants  of  India  and  of  China,  and  almost 
without  exception  among  uncivilized  tribes.  Demons  at 
first  included  both  good  and  evil  spirits,  but  later  angels  were 
differentiated,  and  the  term  is  now  used  only  for  the  emis- 
saries of  the  devil.  The  theory  would  be  a  natural  explana- 
tion of  certain  forms  of  disease  among  people  who  believed 

1  Alexander,  Demonic  Possession  in  the  New  Testament,  pp.  121,  150, 
quoted  by  W.  Fairweather,  "Development  of  Doctrine  in  the  Apoc- 
ryphal Period,"  Hastings'  Bible  Dictionary,  V,  p.  290. 


DEMONIACAL  POSSESSION  107 

in  the  possibility  of  spirits  entering  men.  In  cases  of  hysteria, 
epilepsy,  and  insanity,  with  raving  and  convulsions,  the  per- 
son does  not  seem  to  be  himself,  but  it  appears  that  some 
other  being  is  in  possession  of  the  body,  and  even  the  patient 
may  believe  this  when  he  returns  to  his  normal  condition. 
Again,  when  severe  internal  pain  is  experienced,  or  when  the 
patient  is  wasting  away  without  any  apparent  cause,  this  may 
be  ascribed  to  some  unseen  being  gnawing  or  devouring  one 
within. 

In  the  New  Testament  demoniacal  possession  is  associated 
with  diseases  of  different  kinds,  e.  g.,  dumbness,  deafness, 
blindness,  epilepsy,  and  fevers.  We  find  a  typical  case  of  epi- 
lepsy described  in  Matt.  17: 15,  Mark  9:18,  and  Luke  9:38. 
Notice  the  symptoms:  the  cry,  falling  down,  being  convulsed, 
foaming  at  the  mouth,  grinding  his  teeth,  bruising  himself 
sorely,  sometimes  falling  into  the  fire  and  sometimes  into  the 
water,  and  becoming  as  one  dead;  no  medical  work  could  enu- 
merate the  symptoms  better.  In  Matthew's  account  the  father 
speaks  of  the  son  as  an  epileptic,  but  the  other  two  evan- 
gelists speak  of  a  spirit.  These  are  not  inconsistent,  for  the 
very  term  "epilepsy"  shows  that  in  early  times  it  was  always 
considered  the  work  of  a  demon,  for  it  means  "seizure,"  i.  e., 
by  a  demon.  Fevers,  especially  intermittent  fevers,  where 
the  rhythm  of  the  fever  apparently  indicated  some  intelligent 
action  back  of  the  disease,  were  usually  ascribed  to  demons; 
and  anything  of  an  unhealthy  nature,  such  as  an  uncanny 
expression,  especially  of  the  eyes,  was  attributed  to  the  same 
cause.  Demons  were  supposed  to  be  able  to  pass  into  ani- 
mals as  well  as  into  men,  and  were  able  to  speak  and  exer- 
cise mastery  over  the  vocal  organs  and  over  other  parts  of 
the  bodies  of  the  victims. 

Among  those  who  wrote  subsequent  to  New  Testament 
times,  demons  were  supposed  to  be  responsible  for  insanity, 
epilepsy,  and  phenomena  illustrated  by  the  sacred  frenzy  of 


108  DEMONIACAL  POSSESSION 

the  orgiastic  worship  of  Bacchus.  Among  the  Jews  the 
exorcism  of  demons  was  a  recognized  profession,  but  among 
early  Christians  this  power  was  exercised  generally,  without 
special  authorization,  down  to  the  middle  of  the  third  century. 
Pope  Fabian  (236-250)  seems  to  have  been  the  first  to  assign 
a  definite  name  and  functions  to  exorcists  as  a  separate 
order.1  These  functions  may  now  be  used  by  any  Roman 
Catholic  priest,  since  his  priesthood  ordination  includes  that 
of  exorcist.  In  many  dioceses,  however,  the  special  permis- 
sion of  the  bishop  is  required  for  the  exercise  of  this  solemn 
rite.  Among  the  reformers,  opinion  and  practice  were 
divided  concerning  exorcism;  Luther  and  Melanchthon 
favored  it,  but  it  was  decisively  rejected  by  Zwingli  and 
Calvin.2 

In  most  instances  demoniacal  possession  is  met  with  in 
isolated  cases,  but  in  the  Middle  Ages  it  appeared  in  epidemic 
form.  In  this  it  resembled  witchcraft.  In  fact,  it  appeared 
sometimes  in  connection  with  witchcraft,  the  supposed  witch 
being  guilty  of  witchcraft  and  the  bewitched  being  the  victim 
of  demoniacal  possession.  In  1350  an  epidemic  of  this  char- 
acter attacked  the  convent  of  St.  Brigitta,  in  Xanthen,  and 
lasted  for  ten  years.  About  the  same  time  a  convent  near 
Cologne  and  others  were  also  affected.  The  nuns  declared 
that  they  were  visited  by  the  devil  and  had  carnal  conversa- 
tion with  him.  These  and  other  "possessed"  wretches  were 
sometimes  thrown  into  dungeons  and  sometimes  burned.  In 
the  sixteenth  century  such  epidemics  broke  out  in  Branden- 
burg and  in  Holland  and  in  Italy.  These  were  also  prin- 
cipally confined  to  the  convents. 

In  1609  and  the  two  following  years  the  convent  of  the 
Ursulines  at  Aix  was  the  scene  of  such  an  experience.     Two 

1  New  International  Encyclopedia,  Art.  "Exorcism." 

2  O.  C.  Whitehouse,  "Exorcism,"  Hastings'  Bible  Dictionary,  I, 
p.  811  /. 


DEMONIACAL  POSSESSION  109 

possessed  nuns,  tormented  by  all  kinds  of  apparitions,  ac- 
cused a  priest  of  witchcraft,  on  which  charge  he  was  burned 
to  death.  The  famous  case  of  the  Ursuline  nuns  at  Loudun, 
some  twenty-five  years  later,  led  to  a  like  tragic  conclusion.1 
The  superior  of  this  convent  was  Sceur  Jeanne  des  Anges, 
and  her  experience  with  demons  was  most  vivid  and  realistic. 
Her  belief  in  her  own  possession  as  well  as  in  that  of  the  nuns 
was  so  strong  that  although  at  one  time  she  was  a  most  ardent 
admirer,  she  was  afterward  the  fiercest  enemy  of  the  unfort- 
unate Urbain  Grandier,  who  was  burned  alive  in  1634,  on 
the  charge  of  bewitching  the  nuns.  The  demons  who  pos- 
sessed her  she  called  by  name,  e.  g.,  Asmodeus,  Leviathan, 
Behemoth,  Isacaarous,  Balaam,  Gresil,  and  Aman,  and 
recognized  them  by  their  words  and  orthography  and  the 
special  train  of  undesirable  writings  which  each  inspired. 
The  editors  of  her  autobiography  have  diagnosed  her  case  as 
hysterio- epilepsy,  that  disease  with  which  the  Salpetriere 
School  has  made  us  so  familiar.2 

Father  Surin  has  left  a  detailed  account  of  his  mental 
experience  during  possession.  In  speaking  of  when  the 
demon  passed  from  the  body  of  the  possessed  woman  to  his 
own,  he  says,  "I  am  not  able  to  describe  to  you  what  takes 
place  within  me  at  such  a  time,  and  how  that  spirit  unites 
itself  with  mine,  without  depriving  me  of  consciousness  or  of 
the  freedom  of  my  soul,  yet  becoming  like  another  ego  of 
myself,  and  as  if  I  had  two  souls,  of  which  one  is  dispossessed 
of  its  body,  and  of  the  use  of  its  organs,  and  compelled  to 
keep  aloof,  merely  looking  upon  the  doings  of  the  other  in- 
truding soul.  The  two  spirits  wrestle  together  in  the  same 
field,  which  is  the  body,  and  the  soul  is  as  though  it  were 
divided.  According  to  the  one  side  of  its  ego,  the  soul  is  the 
subject  of  the  diabolical  impressions,  and  according  to  the 

1  E.  Parish,  Hallucinations  and  Illusions,  p.  37. 

*  F.  W.  H.  Myers,  Human  Personality,  etc.,  II,  p.  422. 


no  DEMONIACAL  POSSESSION 

other  side  it  is  the  subject  of  the  movements  proper  to  it,  or 
that  God  gives  to  it.  When — by  the  movement  of  these  two 
souls — I  wish  to  make  a  sign  of  the  cross  on  somebody's  lips, 
the  other  soul  very  quickly  deviates  my  hand  and  seizes  my 
finger  to  bite  it  furiously  with  its  teeth.  .  .  .  When  I  wish 
to  speak  I  am  stopped  short ;  at  table  I  cannot  raise  a  morsel 
of  food  to  my  mouth;  at  confession  I  suddenly  forget  my 
sins;  and  I  feel  the  demon  coming  and  going  within  me  as 
in  his  own  house."  1  In  the  Louvier  case  in  1642,  the  two 
principal  victims  found  their  end  in  life-long  imprisonment 
and  at  the  stake,  respectively. 

In  1739,  during  the  revival  under  Wesley,  another  epidemic 
of  demonism  occurred,  principally  around  Bristol.  Wesley 
appeared  in  the  rather  unenviable  role  of  exorcist,  and  cast 
out  demons  which  he  himself  had  been  instrumental  in 
originating,  or  at  least  of  encouraging.  For  some  time  this 
and  similar  phenomena  accompanied  his  services.  The  fol- 
lowing, for  instance,  is  a  typical  case  of  demoniacal  posses- 
sion, taken  from  Wesley's  journal. 

"October  25.  I  was  sent  for  to  one  in  Bristol  who  was 
taken  ill  the  evening  before.  She  lay  on  the  ground  furiously 
gnashing  her  teeth  and  after  a  while  soared  aloud.  It  was 
not  easy  for  three  or  four  hours  to  hold  her,  especially  when 
the  name  of  Jesus  was  named.  We  prayed.  The  violence 
of  her  symptoms  ceased,  although  without  a  complete  de- 
liverance." Wesley  was  again  sent  for  in  the  evening.  "  She 
began  screaming  before  I  came  into  the  room,  then  broke 
out  into  a  horrid  laughter,  mixed  with  blasphemy,  grievous 
to  hear.  One  who  from  many  circumstances  apprehended 
a  preternatural  agent  to  be  concerned  in  this,  asking,  'How 
didst  thou  dare  to  enter  into  a  Christian?'  was  answered, 
'She  is  not  a  Christian,  she  is  mine.'  Then  another  ques- 
tion, 'Dost  thou  not  tremble  at  the  name  of  Jesus?'     No 

1  Th.  Ribot,  The  Diseases  of  Personality,  p.  120/.,  note. 


DEMONIACAL  POSSESSION 


in 


words  followed,  but  she  shrank  back  and  trembled  exceed- 
ingly. '  Art  thou  not  increasing  thine  own  damnation  ? '  It 
was  faintly  answered,  'Ay!  Ay!'  which  was  followed  by  fresh 
cursing  and  blasphemy  .  .  .  with  spitting,  and  all  the 
expressions  of  strong  aversion."  Again,  the  second  day 
after,  Wesley  called  and  prayed  with  her  with  the  happy 
conclusion  that  "all  her  pangs  ceased  in  a  moment,  she  was 
filled  with  peace,  and  knew  that  the  son  of  wickedness  was 
departed  from  her."  Bunyan  tells  us  of  his  obsession  by  a 
fixed  idea,  and  speaks  of  it  as  a  demon; '  Joseph  Smith,  Jr., 
successfully  exorcised  demons  from  his  faithful  followers.2 

The  last  case  of  demoniacal  possession  of  note  in  England 
was  that  of  George  Lukins  of  Yattan,  a  knavish  epileptic, 
out  of  whom  seven  clergymen  exorcised  seven  devils,  at  the 
Temple  Church,  at  Bristol,  in  1788.  At  Morzine,  Savoy,  a 
demon  was  exorcised  in  1861.  At  Barcelona,  in  1876,  a 
priest  in  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Spirit  cast  out  demons  in 
more  than  one  instance.  On  one  occasion  the  patient,  a 
young  woman,  lay  on  the  floor  before  the  altar  writhing  in 
convulsions  with  distorted  features  and  foaming  at  the  mouth, 
while  the  priest  carried  on  a  dialogue  with  the  demon,  whom 
he  addressed  as  Rusbel.  The  fiend's  answers  were,  of 
course,  spoken  by  the  voice  of  the  unfortunate  girl.  At  last 
a  number  of  demons  were  supposed  to  come  out  of  the 
patient's  body.  Such  scenes  were  repeated  for  days  in  the 
presence  of  many  spectators  until  a  riot  arose,  and  the  civil 
authorities  intervening  put  a  stop  to  the  whole  affair.3 

In  an  account  of  an  exorcism  in  Ceylon  during  the  last  half 
of  last  century,  both  priest  and  dancers  took  part.  The 
demoniac,  a  woman,  was  brought  forward  in  a  kind  of  trance 

1  F.  Granger,  The  Soul  oj  a  Christian,  p.  116. 
'  F.  M.  Davenport,  Primitive  Traits  in  Religions  Revivals,  p.  240. 
*  The  Times,  Nov.,   1876,  quoted  by  Encyclopedia  Britannica,  Art. 
"Demonology." 


ii2  DEMONIACAL  POSSESSION 

with  fixed  and  glassy  stare.  There  was  a  long  ceremony 
consisting  of  apparent  hypnosis,  sacrifices,  incantations,  and 
ridiculous  forms  lasting  hours;  after  which  the  woman  came 
to  herself  and  appeared  all  right.1  The  Patagonians  exor- 
cise demons  by  beating,  at  the  head  of  the  bed  on  which  the 
demoniac  lies,  a  drum  painted  with  figures  of  devils.  In 
Australia  the  nightmare  is  recognized  as  a  demon.  Evi- 
dently this  is  the  original  idea,  for  the  word  means  night- 
spirit,  and  the  experience  might  well  be  interpreted  as  being 
held  in  the  grasp  of  a  spirit  so  as  to  be  speechless  and  motion- 
less and  yet  tortured  by  the  fiend.  Travellers  tell  us  that 
demoniacal  possessions  are  common  among  the  aborigines  of 
Africa,  and  the  phenomena  are  not  unlike  those  described 
in  the  New  Testament.  Frantic  gestures,  convulsions,  foam- 
ing at  the  mouth,  feats  of  supernatural  strength,  furious  rav- 
ings, bodily  lacerations,  gnashing  of  teeth,  and  other 
things  of  a  similar  character  may  be  witnessed  in  most 
cases. 

At  present,  however,  China  seems  to  be  the  field  where 
demoniacal  possession  flourishes  best,  and  some  very  inter- 
esting cases  have  been  reported.2  The  great  mass  of  the 
material  rests  on  the  evidence  of  Chinese  or  Mongolian  wit- 
nesses, which  is  invalidated  to  some  extent  for  two  reasons: 
all  the  witnesses  were  fully  convinced  of  the  diabolic  origin 
of  the  phenomena,  and  those  who  obtained  the  accounts  from 
them  and  reported  them  to  us  take  the  same  view;  this  in- 
evitably colors  the  accounts.  The  second  reason  is  that  the 
Chinese  are  not  the  most  trustworthy  witnesses  on  any  sub- 
ject.    One  case  will  serve  as  an  example  of  the  Chinese  type. 

1  C.  Corner-Ohlm's,  "A  Devil-Dance  in  Ceylon,"  Nineteenth  Cen- 
tury, XLVI,  p.  814. 

2  J.  L.  Nevius,  Demon  Possession  and  Allied  Themes;  also  D.  K. 
Lambuth,  "Korean  Devils  and  Christian  Missionaries,"  Independent, 
1907. 


DEMONIACAL  POSSESSION  113 

Kwo,  a  mountaineer,  gives  an  account  of  his  own  experiences. 
He  had  been  making  arrangements  for  the  household  worship 
of  the  goddess  Wang-Muniang,  when  one  night  he  dreamed 
that  the  goddess  appeared  to  him  and  announced  that  she 
had  taken  up  her  abode  in  his  house.  After  a  few  days  he 
had  a  feeling  of  restlessness  coupled  with  an  irrational  im- 
pulse to  gamble.  His  mind  became  confused  and  his  memory- 
was  impaired.  He  was  then  seized  by  an  epileptiform  attack, 
followed  by  mania  with  homicidal  impulses.  The  demon 
proclaimed  its  presence  and  demanded  worship.  Upon  com- 
pliance with  its  demands  it  departed.  For  some  months  the 
demon  reappeared  at  intervals  and  promised  to  heal  dis- 
eases. There  were  many  diseases,  however,  which  were  not 
under  its  control,  and  it  seems  that  it  was  only  able  to  effect 
a  complete  cure  of  such  cases  as  were  afflicted  with  spirit 
possession.  This  latter  fact  is  quite  significant.  When  the 
demoniac  became  a  Christian  the  demon  disappeared,  saying, 
"  Jesus  Christ  is  the  great  Lord  over  all;  and  now  I  am  going 
away  and  you  will  not  see  me  again."  Kwo  was  not  troubled 
after  that.1 

If  we  do  not  accept  the  literal  explanation  of  demoniacal 
possession,  how  are  we  to  explain  the  phenomena?  The 
similarity  to  witchcraft  demands  a  somewhat  similar  ex- 
planation. The  general  belief  in  the  possibility  of  such  a 
thing  proves  to  be  a  powerful  suggestion.  The  nervous  in- 
stability and  excitement  of  the  victim  provide  a  basis  and 
give  ample  opportunity  for  the  suggestion  to  take  root.2  In 
some  cases  this  is  sufficient  explanation,  especially  in  those 
of  an  epidemic  character.  In  other  cases  we  have  splendid 
examples  of  so-called  "dual"  or  "multiple  personality." 
This  is  common  either  as  an  artificial  or  spontaneous  phe- 
nomenon.    Many  of  these  divisions  are  purely  intellectual, 

1  J.  L.  Nevius,  Demon  Possession  and  Allied  Themes,  pp.  17-27 
1  J.  B.  Pratt,  The  Psychology  0}  Religious  Belie},  p.  63  /. 


ii4  DEMONIACAL  POSSESSION 

but  we  know  that  the  moral  nature — the  will  and  the  char- 
acter— may  split  as  easily  as  the  intellect. 

The  question  has  been  asked,  however,  "Can  we  suppose 
that  the  tormentor  was  a  part  of  the  tormented?"  Instead 
of  this  question  being  an  absurd  one,  the  affirmative  answer 
is  supported  by  characteristic  phenomena  both  in  insanity 
and  hysteria.  At  times  the  splits  in  personality  seem  to  be 
of  such  a  character  that  there  is  an  entire  lack  of  sympathy 
between  the  two  conditions,  normal  and  abnormal.  In  the 
celebrated  case  of  Leonie,  Leontine  (Leonie  II)  was  very 
antagonistic  to  Leonie,  and  during  the  whole  history  of  the 
case  continued  to  be  so.  Dr.  Morton  Pierce's  patient,  "The 
Misses  Beauchamp,"  exhibited  the  same  traits.  B  III  never 
lost  an  opportunity  for  showing  the  greatest  antagonism  to 
B  I,  the  normal  personality.  In  Dr.  Ira  Barrows'  famous 
case,  reported  by  Professor  James,  the  second  personality  was 
localized  in  the  right  hand  and  arm,  and  the  most  violent 
antagonism  is  shown  toward  it,  which  she  never  calls  by  any 
other  name  than  "Old  Stump." 

Since  the  fiendish  and  hostile  action  of  the  Chinese  demon 
does  not  prove  its  identity,  but  is  rather  a  proof  of  its  fraud- 
ulent nature,  there  is  only  one  other  claim  made  which  is 
worthy  of  consideration,  and  that  is  the  claim  of  supernormal 
knowledge.  Taking  these  accounts  at  second-hand  we  cannot 
well  discuss  the  point;  but  when  we  know  of  the  heightened 
memory  found  in  ecstatic  and  hypnotic  cases,  we  need  very 
strong  evidence  to  satisfy  us  that  what  is  termed  supernormal 
knowledge  is  not  exalted  memory. 

I  must  here  insert,  by  way  of  pertinent  example,  an  epitome 
of  Professor  Janet's  case  of  Achille.1  Achille  was  a  timid 
and  rather  morbid  young  married  man.  After  returning 
from  a  business  journey  he  became  sombre  and  taciturn, 

1  For  a  full  description  of  this  case  see  Nevroses  et  Idees  fixes,  I,  pp. 
377-389- 


DEMONIACAL  POSSESSION  115 

sometimes  appearing  unable  to  speak.     He  remained  in  his 
bed  murmuring  incomprehensible  words-,  bade  farewell  to  his 
wife  and  children,  and  stretched  himself  out  motionless  for  a 
couple  of  days,  while  his  family  waited  for  his  last  breath. 
Suddenly  he  sat  up  in  bed  with  wide-open  eyes,  and  burst 
into  a  convulsive,  exaggerated,  Satanic  laugh  which  lasted 
for  more  than  two  hours.     He  leapt  from  his  bed  and  cried, 
"They  are  burning  me — they  are  cutting  me  to  pieces!" 
After  an  agitated  sleep  he  awoke  with  the  conviction  that  he 
was  possessed  with  a  devil.     His  mouth  uttered  blasphemies, 
his  limbs  were  contorted,  and  he  repeatedly  made  unsuccess- 
ful attempts  at  suicide.     When  taken  to  Professor  Janet  he 
kept    protesting   against   the   odious   outrages   on   religion, 
which  he  attributed  to  a  devil  inside  of  him,  moving  his  tongue 
against  his  will.     Attempts  to  hypnotize  him  failed,  but  the 
wily  psychologist  finally  persuaded  the  demon  to  show  his 
power  by  putting  Achille  soundly  asleep.     No  sooner  was 
this  done  than  he  was  delivered  from  his  tormentor — from  his 
own  tormenting  self.     In  that  hypnotic  sleep  he  was  gently 
led  on  to  tell  all  his  story;  and  such  stories,  when  told  to  a 
skilled  and  kindly  auditor,  are  apt  to  come  to  an  end  in  the 
very  act  of  being  told.     Achille  had  been  living  in  a  day- 
dream;   it  had  swollen  to  these  nightmare  proportions,  and 
had,  as  it  were,  ousted  his  rational  being;  and  in  the  deeper 
self-knowledge  which  the  somnambulistic  state  brings  with  it, 
the  dream  and  its  interpretation  became  present  to  his  be- 
wildered mind.     The  fact  was  that  on  that  fateful  journey 
when  Achille's  troubles  began  he  had  committed  an  act  of 
unfaithfulness  to  his  wife.     A  gloomy  anxiety  to  conceal  this 
action  prompted  him  to  an  increasing  taciturnity,  and  morbid 
fancies  as  to  his  health  grew  on  him  until  at  last  his  day- 
dream led  him  to  imagine  himself  as  actually  dead.     What, 
then,  was  naturally  the  next  stage  of  the  dream's  develop- 
ment?    "He  dreamed  that,  now  that  he  was  dead  indeed, 


n6  DEMONIACAL  POSSESSION 

the  devil  rose  from  the  abyss  and  came  to  take  him.  The 
poor  man,  as  in  his  somnambulic  state  he  retraced  the  series 
of  his  dreams,  remembered  the  precise  instant  when  this 
lamentable  event  took  place.  It  was  about  u  a.m.:  a  dog 
barked  in  the  court  at  the  moment,  incommoded,  no  doubt, 
by  the  smell  of  brimstone;  flames  filled  the  room;  numbers 
of  little  fiends  scourged  the  unhappy  man,  or  drove  nails 
into  his  eyes,  and  through  the  wounds  in  his  body  Satan 
entered  in  to  take  possession  of  head  and  heart."  From 
this  point  the  pseudo-possession  may  be  said  to  have  begun. 
The  fixed  idea  developed  itself  into  sensory  and  motor  autom- 
atisms— visions  of  devils,  uncontrollable  utterances,  auto- 
matic script — ascribed  by  the  automatist  to  the  possessing 
devil  within.  By  Professor  Janet's  treatment  the  incidents 
of  the  miserable  memory  were  modified,  were  explained  away, 
were  slowly  dissolved  from  the  brooding  brain,  and  the  hal- 
lucinatory image  of  the  offended  wife  was  presented  to  the 
sufferer  at  the  proper  moment  with  pardon  in  her  eyes. 
Achille  was  restored  to  physical  and  moral  health,  and  after- 
ward led  the  life  of  a  normal  man.  This  case  of  demoniacal 
possession  was  completely  cured  by  mental  treatment.  It 
shows  the  character  of  the  phenomenon. 

While  demoniacs  are  found  among  all  classes  of  people, 
usually  those  who  are  very  suggestible,  feeble-minded,  with 
a  melancholic  temperament  and  a  vicious  education,  furnish 
the  subjects.  Female  demoniacs  are  more  common  than 
male,  and  the  majority  have  been  between  forty  and  fifty 
years  of  age.  There  have  been  very  few  under  the  age  of 
puberty  or  among  old  people.1  Chinese  demoniacs,  accord- 
ing to  Nevius,  range  between  fifteen  and  fifty  years  of  age, 
quite  irrespective  of  sex.  Chamberlain  says,  "The  only 
difference  between  the  cases  of  possession  mentioned  in  the 
Bible  and  those  observed  in  Japan  is  that  it  is  almost  exclu- 

1  E.  Esquirol,  Mental  Maladies,  pp.  235-252. 


DEMONIACAL  POSSESSION  117 

sively  women  that  are  attacked,  mostly  women  of  the  lower 
class.  Among  the  predisposing  conditions  may  be  men- 
tioned a  weak  intellect,  a  superstitious  turn  of  mind,  and  such 
debilitating  diseases  as,  for  instance,  typhoid  fever.  Pos- 
session never  occurs  except  in  such  subjects  as  have  heard 
of  it  already  and  believe  in  the  reality  of  its  existence."1 

In  conclusion  I  feel  like  reiterating  the  words  of  one  writer 
concerning  the  oriental  cases.  He  said,  "If  the  case  now- 
adays of  the  demonolators  of  Southern  India  differs  from 
that  of  the  Hebrews,  who  in  the  time  of  Christ  were  possessed 
with  devils,  will  anyone  point  out  to  me  the  exact  bound  and 
limit  of  the  difference?"2  I  believe  them  to  be  similar,  but 
would  differ  from  this  writer  in  one  particular.  I  would 
class  them  according  to  the  diagnosis  of  to-day  rather  than 
that  of  1900  years  ago.  Since  we  are  able  both  to  produce 
and  cure  demoniacal  possession  in  our  laboratories,  it  hardly 
seems  necessary  to  invoke  the  aid  of  demons  to  furnish  an 
explanation,  especially  when  we  can  give  a  better  one  without 
it.  The  disaggregation  of  consciousness,  or  a  split  in  per- 
sonality, with  an  insistent  idea  in  the  secondary  conscious- 
ness, is  all  that  science  needs  to-day  to  furnish  a  case  of 
demoniacal  possession  as  wild  and  fiendish  as  the  most 
fastidious  could  wish. 

It  will  be  readily  recognized  that  a  disbelief  in  demons  or 
in  demoniacal  possession  does  not  interfere  with  a  belief  in  a 
personal  devil  if  one  chooses  to  entertain  the  latter,  any  more 
than  a  rejection  of  angelology  would  prevent  the  acceptance 
of  a  belief  in  God. 

1  B.  H.  Chamberlain,  Things  Japanese,  p.  114. 

2  R.  C.  Cardwell,  "Demonology,  Devil  Dancing,  and  Demoniacal 
Possession,"  Contemporary  Review,  1876,  p.  376. 


CHAPTER  XI 

MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM 
"He  lives  in  fame  that  died  in  virtue's  cause."— Shakespeare. 

Neither  Monasticism  nor  Asceticism  is  an  unique  product 
of  Christianity.  Both  were  known  before  the  Christian  era, 
and  Egypt  and  India,  rather  than  Palestine  or  western 
countries,  may  be  looked  upon  as  the  homes  of  these  prac- 
tices. A  remembrance  of  the  Fakeers  of  India,  the  Galli  and 
Vestales  of  Rome,  the  Pythagoreans  of  Greece,  the  Thera- 
peutae  of  Egypt,  and  the  Essenes  of  Judea  will  instantly 
reveal  the  general  prevalence  of  these  ideas  before  the  days 
of  Christ.1  The  widespread  and  universal  character  of  these 
practices  shows  that  in  some  way  either  the  results  or  proc- 
esses find  in  many  persons  a  responsive  chord,  that  human 
nature  delights  in  the  arduous,  or  at  least  in  the  unusual. 
While  it  was  usually  considered  that  self-denial  was  an  in- 
evitable part  of  the  life  of  the  monk  or  of  the  hermit,  there 
were  certain  compensations  which  to  some  persons  more  than 
repaid  any  sacrifice. 

In  the  fourth  century  and  later  there  was  a  stampede  from 
the  church,  as  though  it  were  ruled  by  the  devil  as  much  as 
the  world  from  which  men  were  bound  to  make  their  escape. 
Both  were  left  behind.  Why  was  this  ?  It  was  for  the  pur- 
pose of  individual  freedom.  True,  the  monk  took  a  vow, 
but  this  was  to  a  monastery  or  abbot,  which  one  could  choose, 

1  T.  G.  Crippen,  History  of  Christian  Doctrine,  p.  156. 

118 


MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM  119 

and  it  meant  entire  freedom  from  the  bondage  of  the  church 
into  which  one  was  born  without  his  consent.1 

We  see  in  the  churchman  and  the  monk  a  psychological 
distinction  which  is  as  old  as  man.  The  church  upheld 
authority  and  union,  while  monasticism  stood  for  individual- 
ism. Individualism  is  the  highest  product  of  human  de- 
velopment. It  is  not  first  chronologically,  but  gradually  the 
individual  is  differentiated  from  the  mass  which  tries  to  sub- 
jugate him.  Mr.  Spencer's  definition  of  evolution  would 
lead  us  to  think  that  the  production  of  individualism  was  the 
business  of  the  world.  Notwithstanding  the  value  of  the 
monastery  in  developing  individualism,  it  was  a  failure  in  the 
full  development,  for  only  by  the  free  competition  with  un- 
trammelled men,  and  through  the  family  and  the  state — the 
two  institutions  which  monasticism  rejected — could  the  pin- 
nacle of  individualism  be  reached. 

There  were  three  stages  of  development:   1.  the  anchorite; 

2.  the  community,  independent  of  other  communities;    and 

3.  the  organization  of  communities,  although  the  later  stages 
never  did  away  entirely  with  the  former.  It  is  also  noticeable 
that  the  three  vows  of  the  monk  found  emphasis  and  expres- 
sion in  three  different  orders :  Clugny  forced  celibacy  on  the 
clergy,  the  Mendicant  orders  typified  poverty,  while  the 
Jesuits  were  the  soul  of  obedience.  Although  the  monks  and 
anchorites  fled  from  the  church,  the  church  never  allowed 
them  to  escape,  and  they  brought  new  blood  into  it  and  in- 
fused it  with  fresh  enthusiasm  and  loyalty.  Among  all  the 
extravagances  this  was  not  the  only  good  trait.  They  exer- 
cised hospitality,  they  were  kind  to  the  poor,  and  befriended 
those  who  were  in  distress.  They  boldly  rebuked  the  sins 
of  the  powerful,  which  they  were  able  to  do  on  account  of  the 
respect  entertained  for  their  sanctity,  although  such  rebukes 
would  have  cost  others  their  lives.     They  led  in  intellectual 

1  A.  V.  G.  Allen,  Christian  Institutions,  pp.  139  and  175. 


120  MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM 

development,  produced  many  great  church  teachers,  and 
established  schools.  They  developed  the  arts,  and  saved 
agriculture  in  days  when  both  were  neglected  by  others,  and 
led  also  in  piety  and  religious  growth.  Truly  it  may  be  said 
that  "Western  civilization  was  cradled  in  the  monastery." 
In  the  fourteenth  century  times  changed  so  that  individual 
opportunities  became  greater,  and  men  could  develop  far 
better  outside  the  monasteries  than  within  their  walls.  So 
well  have  the  results  of  Monasticism  been  summed  up  by 
another  that  I  venture  to  give  a  most  excellent,  if  rather 
long,  quotation: 

"Every  direct  specific  purpose  of  the  monk  seemed  in  the 
long  run  to  have  been  reversed,  or  to  have  proved  a  failure. 
He  began  with  indifference  to  the  extension  of  the  visible 
church  and  ended  with  reviving  the  primitive  order  of  the 
Apostolate  for  the  conversion  of  Western  Europe.  His  fore- 
most aim  was  the  salvation  of  his  own  soul,  and  he  became 
the  most  successful  of  missionaries  for  accomplishing  the 
salvation  of  others.  He  left  the  world  of  towns  and  cities 
behind  him,  but  where  he  went  the  world  followed  him  and 
towns  and  cities  sprang  up  around  him.  He  started,  as  did 
the  Montanists,  his  predecessors,  with  an  inward  revolt 
against  the  laws  of  outward  nature,  or  the  ties  which  bind 
the  body  and  soul  together;  he  lived  in  deserts  and  in  dens 
and  in  caves  of  the  earth,  he  fought  the  constitution  of  his 
being  with  rigid  and  prolonged  physical  discipline.  And  yet 
it  was  the  monk  who  was  the  first  in  the  modern  world,  as  in 
the  case  of  St.  Bernard  or  St.  Francis,  to  acquire  the  love  of 
nature.  In  the  contact  with  nature,  which  was  forced  upon 
him  by  his  desire  to  be  in  solitude  and  alone  with  God,  there 
entered  into  his  soul  the  healing  power  of  nature  through 
communion  with  his  spirit.  Through  this  communion  with 
nature,  which  begot  the  love  of  nature,  came  the  preparation 
for  modern  art.     From  holding  the  human  body  as  an  evil 


MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM  121 

thing  at  war  with  the  soul,  he  came  to  recognize  the  divineness 
of  the  human  form  as  the  expression  of  the  inward  spirit.  He 
lived  in  the  atmosphere  of  the  miracle,  a  world  of  his  own 
creation  where  all  laws  might  be  suspended  at  the  bidding  of 
faith,  where  the  power  of  the  holy  man  was  revealed  as 
stronger  than  the  forces  of  life  or  death,  and  thus,  as  with 
Albert  the  Great  or  Roger  Bacon,  prepared  the  way  for  mod- 
ern science  which  reveals  nature  as  at  the  service  of  man. 
Monasticism  started  with  a  contempt  for  the  human  reason, 
as  if  intellect  were  necessarily  at  war  with  piety,  and,  like  the 
Montanist,  despised  philosophy,  as  incompatible  with  true 
religion.  But  the  monasteries,  when  they  reached  the  height 
of  their  development,  produced  the  scholars,  the  thinkers,  the 
philosophers  of  the  age.  The  one  supreme  object  of  scholas- 
ticism was  to  defend  the  doctrines  of  the  church,  but  in 
order  to  this  end  it  was  necessary  to  cultivate  the  reason. 
When  the  process  of  scholasticism  was  complete,  it  ended  in 
what  is  known  as  nominalism,  which  asserts  the  importance 
of  the  thinking  mind  as  that  which  gives  reality  to  human 
thought.  In  its  origin,  monasticism,  like  Montanism,  was 
indifferent  to  the  welfare  of  the  state,  fleeing  to  the  desert  to 
escape  its  control.  Its  indifference  to  the  political  order,  the 
absence  of  loyalty  to  one's  country,  or  the  sense  of  patriotism, 
had  hastened  the  downfall  of  the  Roman  Empire.  The 
monks  contributed  nothing  to  the  cause  of  nationality;  they 
were  cosmopolitan,  equally  at  home  in  every  country.  And 
yet  it  was  the  monks  who  were  called  to  rule  the  world  which 
they  despised.  It  was  a  dream  of  ancient  times  that  it  would 
be  desirable  if  a  philosopher,  who  lightly  regarded  the  world, 
could  be  brought  to  govern  the  world,  sitting  on  the  throne  of 
the  Roman  Empire;  and  it  happened  once  in  the  case  of 
Marcus  Aurelius.  So  in  the  case  of  Hildebrand  and  of 
others  who  succeeded  him,  monks  ruled  over  the  states  of 
Europe  and  subjected  princes,  kings,  and  emperors  to  their 


122  MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM 

sway.  They  abandoned  property  and  took  the  vow  of  poverty 
but  they  could  not  escape  from  wealth.  Each  successive 
attempt  to  make  the  monasteries  poor  ended  in  their  being 
richer  than  before.  They  cultivated  obedience  as  an  art, 
taking  a  special  vow  to  obey,  and  the  end  of  the  process  was 
individual  freedom.  .  .  .  They  took  the  vow  of  celibacy 
and  called  it  chastity,  and  the  result,  it  is  needless  to  say,  was 
such  disastrous  moral  failure  and  collapse  as  to  cast  a  dis- 
credit upon  the  system  of  the  monastery  from  which  it  has 
not  yet  recovered."  * 

We  will  now  take  up  some  of  the  different  factors  of 
Monasticism  and  Asceticism  and  endeavor  to  gauge  their 
psychological  significance. 

SELF-DENIAL 

"  Keep  the  faculty  of  effort  alive  in  you  by  a  little  gratuitous 
exercise  every  day.  That  is,  be  systematically  ascetic  or 
heroic  in  little  unnecessary  points,  do  every  day  or  two  some- 
thing for  no  other  reason  than  that  you  would  rather  not  do 
it,  so  that  when  the  hour  of  dire  need  draws  nigh,  it  may  find 
you  not  unnerved  and  untrained  to  stand  the  test.  Asceti- 
cism of  this  sort  is  like  the  insurance  which  a  man  pays  on 
his  house  and  goods.  The  tax  does  him  no  good  at  the  time, 
and  possibly  may  never  bring  him  a  return.  But  if  the  fire 
does  come,  his  having  paid  it  will  be  his  salvation  from 
ruin."  2  This  is  not  third  century  but  twentieth  century  ad- 
vice. It  is  not  particularly  religious,  but  it  makes  for  char- 
acter. There  is  needed  the  asceticism  of  art,  of  business, 
and  of  sport  as  well  as  of  religion,  for  unless  a  man  is  willing 
to  deny  himself  he  cannot  see  the  Kingdom  of  God  in  religion, 
nor  his  ideal  in  any  branch  of  life. 

1  A.  V.  G.  Allen,  Christian  Institutions,  pp.  I73#.,"  see  also  A.  W. 
Wishart,  Monks  and  Monasteries,  pp.  386-393,  for  a  valuation  of  Monas- 
ticism. 2W.  James,  Psychology,  I,  p.  126. 


MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM  123 

The  attitude  of  the  ascetic  toward  the  self  was  both  nega- 
tive and  positive;  the  former  was  exhibited  by  self-denial, 
and  the  latter  by  torture.  Of  course  the  negative  side  has  a 
positive  aim,  and  in  its  legitimate  culmination  is  self-realiza- 
tion rather  than  self-suppression.  We  are  all  now  familiar 
with  the  effect  of  the  body  upon  the  mind  and  therefore  upon 
the  religious  life,  and  not  the  mutilated,  but  the  sound, 
healthy  body  is  of  the  most  value  in  religion.  We  are  trying 
now  to  reinstate  the  body  in  its  original  place  of  honor.  If 
Jesus  advocated  any  asceticism  it  amounted,  as  Harnack  has 
said,1  to  His  putting  us  on  our  guard  against  the  three  ene- 
mies— Mammon,  care,  and  selfishness;  and  to  His  exacting 
of  every  man,  who  should  find  the  way  of  salvation  through 
Him,  a  certain  unlimited  devotion  of  purpose  and  life  to  the 
imperative  interests  of  an  ethical  and  religious  ideal.  This 
excludes  the  positive  attitude  of  the  ascetic  toward  the  body 
— it  leaves  no  room  for  the  torture  of  the  self. 

In  the  early  centuries  there  were  some  Christians  who 
practised  the  negative  side  of  self-denial  only.  They  did  not 
withdraw  from  society,  but  they  thought  that  they  were  pro- 
hibited from  enjoying  many  things  which  were  lawful  for 
those  less  pious.  With  this  belief  they  did  not  drink  wine, 
eat  flesh,  nor  engage  in  any  commerce.  Neither  would  they 
marry,  for  they  looked  for  happiness  in  solitude  rather  than 
in  the  peace  of  domestic  life.  Since  that  time  we  have  found 
many  like-minded,  who  espouse  the  negative  aspect  only, 
and  others  also  who  incorporate  both  the  negative  and  the 
positive  into  their  ideals. 

Of  course  the  root-idea  of  all  self-suppression  was  that  the 
world  was  evil  and  the  body  was  a  servant  of  the  devil.  "Our 
wretched  and  weak  human  flesh,"  wrote  Brother  Giles,  "is 
like  the  pig,  that  ever  delighteth  to  wallow  and  befoul  itself 
in  the  mud,  deeming  the  mud  its  greatest  delight.     Our  flesh 

1  A.  Harnack,  What  is  Christianity?  p.  91  /. 


i24  MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM 

is  the  devil's  knight ;  for  it  resists  and  fights  against  all  those 
things  that  are  of  God  for  our  salvation."  '  If  sin  proceeded 
from  the  body  and  the  ideal  of  perfection  was  the  negative 
principle  of  avoidance  of  sin,  then  the  theory  of  self-suppres- 
sion was  a  legitimate  one;  and  there  are  not  wanting  those 
in  any  age  who  court  the  unpleasant  and  difficult,  and  rejoice 
in  hardship  and  danger — "their  souls  growing  in  happiness 
just  in  proportion  as  their  outward  state  grew  more  intoler- 
able. No  other  emotion  than  religious  emotion  can  bring  a 
man  to  this  peculiar  pass."  2 

The  negative  principle  of  self-denial  is  most  frequently  and 
thoroughly  expressed  in  Solitude,  Humility,  Obedience, 
Poverty,  Fasting,  and  Sexual  Continence.  Solitude  and 
Fasting  will  be  treated  under  separate  rubrics  in  this  chapter, 
while  the  discussion  of  Sexual  Continence  will  be  reserved 
until  we  take  up  the  whole  subject  of  sexuality.  Let  us  then 
take  up  briefly  the  three  other  subjects—humility,  obedience, 
and  poverty.  Of  course  every  ascetic,  per  se,  was  supposed 
to  be  humble.  His  sins,  his  weakness,  his  failures,  his  priva- 
tion, all  made  him  humble,  and  not  infrequently,  so  much 
was  the  humility  of  this  or  that  particular  saint  extolled  that 
I  fear  he  came  to  be  in  the  paradoxical  state  where  he  was 
proud  of  his  humility,  and  the  effort  defeated  itself.  With  St. 
Louis,  for  example,  humility  became  a  fine  art;  his  eyes  were 
hardly  ever  raised,  and  he  excelled  in  rudeness  and  incivility.3 
Mr.  Dickens  has  created  a  very  humble  man  in  Uriah  Heep, 
and  Uriah,  like  many  of  the  saints,  was  humble  for  a  purpose. 

One  further  way  in  which  humility  became  paradoxical 
was  in  the  Christian  practice  of  Confession.4    As  practised 

1  Quoted  by  J.  Moses,  Pathological  Aspects  oj  Religion,  p.  239. 

2  W.  James,  The  Varieties  oj  Religious  Experience,  p.  50. 

3  W.  James,  The  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  p.  352. 

4  F.  Granger,  The  Soul  0}  a  Christian,  pp.  272  f}.;  W.  James,  ibid., 
p.  462  /. 


MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM  125 

to-day  it  is  of  two  kinds,  public  in  some  Protestant  churches, 
and  private  in  the  Roman  Catholic  Church.  The  value  of 
confession  seems  to  be  in  getting  ourselves  fairly  and  squarely 
before  ourselves,  rather  than  in  the  influence  on  or  of  others.1 
The  private  recital  of  all  or  the  worst  of  one's  sins  is  very 
liable  to  react  in  an  injurious  manner  by  way  of  suggestion 
on  the  penitent,  or  on  the  confessor,  or  on  both;  and  the  public 
recital  of  a  part,  and  that  the  least  evil  part,  of  one's  sins  in- 
evitably leads  to  hypocrisy.  Granger  says,  "On  the  whole 
it  would  appear  that  the  tendency  of  the  confessional  is  to  an 
indulgent  view  of  sin,  and  the  penitent  is  let  off  more  easily 
by  another  than  by  his  own  conscience."  The  Society  of 
Friends  eschews  confession  in  any  form,  and  this,  except  as 
particular  friends  may  be  able  to  help,  seems  the  wisest, 
although  James  evidently  thinks  that  we  do  without  the  con- 
fessional for  other  causes,  for  he  says,  "We  English-speaking 
Protestants,  in  the  general  self-reliance  and  unsociability  of 
our  nature,  seem  to  find  it  enough  if  we  take  God  alone  into 
our  confidence." 

Whatever  examples  of  counterfeit  humility  we  may  be  able 
to  point  out,  there  were,  at  least,  many  attempts  to  cultivate 
the  genuine  grace.  St.  Francis  of  Assisi  embraced  the  lepers 
and  kissed  them;  Margaret  Mary  Alacoque,  St.  Catherine, 
Charlotte  Laporte  (known  as  "the  sucker"),  Francis  Xavier, 
St.  John  of  God,  and  others  "are  said  to  have  cleansed  the 
sores  and  ulcers  of  their  patients  with  their  respective  tongues; 
and  the  lives  of  such  saints  as  Elizabeth  of  Hungary  and 
Madame  de  Chantal  are  full  of  a  sort  of  revelling  in  hospital 
purulence,  disagreeable  to  read  of,  and  which  makes  us  ad- 
mire and  shudder  at  the  same  time."  Nothing  could  be 
more  humiliating  than  incidents  of  this  kind. 

As  already  intimated,  the  monk's  vow  of  obedience  was 
really  the  method  of  achieving  a  larger  liberty.     Neverthe- 

1  Compare  G.  S.  Hall,  Adolescence,  II,  p.  308. 


126  MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM 

less,  it  is  a  kind  of  self-surrender  to  those  to  whom  the  vow  is 
made,  be  it  God,  the  abbot,  or  the  church.  All  thought  and 
will  are  thereby  denied  the  monk,  which  consequently  relieves 
him  of  all  responsibility.  The  monk  who  obeys  virtually 
becomes  incapable  of  any  wrong-doing,  and  all  his  sins  must 
be  charged  to  his  superior.  Some  quite  remarkable  cases  of 
obedience  might  be  cited  to  show  how  really  passive  a  person 
may  become. 

Although  the  instinct  for  possession  is  one  of  the  most 
fundamental,  religious  enthusiasm  can  easily  keep  it  in  check. 
In  some  religious  orders,  e.  g.,  the  Benedictine,  the  vow  of 
poverty  only  pertained  to  the  individual  monk  and  not  to  the 
corporate  body.  St.  Francis  endeavored  to  make  it  general, 
but  failed.  His  wisdom  was  exemplified  by  subsequent  events, 
for  it  was  in  eschewing  poverty  in  132 1  that  both  monasticism 
and  the  papacy  began  to  decline.  It  is  a  necessary  part  of 
self-surrender,  and  typifies  a  trust  in  God  without  reserve. 
It  lays  emphasis  on  doing  and  being  rather  than  on  having, 
and  thereby  has  a  distinctly  religious  value.  Professor 
James  speaks  of  the  fear  of  poverty  as  our  worst  moral  dis- 
ease at  the  present  time. 

One  of  the  most  important  reasons  advanced  for  self-denial 
is  that  of  strengthening  the  will  power  by  this  voluntary  and 
unnecessary  sacrifice.  The  power  of  self-control  and  repres- 
sion is  really  a  most  important  element  in  the  development 
of  character,  and  it  may  be  especially  necessary  to  cultivate 
it  in  these  easy  and  self-indulgent  days.  The  question  might 
well  arise  whether  the  ordinary  circumstances  of  life  do  not 
afford  ample  opportunity  for  the  cultivation  of  this  virtue, 
and  whether  more  intrinsically  useful  forms  of  self-denial 
might  not  be  tried  than  those  usually  employed  by  the 
church.  We  might  further  ask  how  far  a  person  would  be 
justified  in  his  self-denial  when  this  brought  involuntary 
suffering  on  others,  as  when  the  early  and  mediaeval  saints 


MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM  127 

left  parents  or  family,  and  refused  to  see  or  talk  to  a  heart- 
broken mother,  who  had  suffered  untold  hardships  in  search- 
ing for  the  heartless  anchorite.  Instead  of  developing  the 
divine  spark  in  man,  the  ideal  life  among  these  ascetics  seems 
to  have  been  to  dehumanize  themselves  and  become  some- 
thing other  than  man.  In  this  some  of  them  succeeded,  and 
they  did  not  become  angels  either. 

FASTING 

Modern  Protestantism  is  the  only  form  of  religion  that  has 
eschewed  fasting  as  a  religious  exercise,  and  it  has  done  this 
notwithstanding  the  authority  of  Paul  and  of  Jesus  who 
correlated  it  with  prayer  as  a  means  of  grace.  The  aborigines 
of  America,  and  other  less  civilized  races  and  tribes,1  as 
well  as  Eastern  peoples,  incorporated  fasting  into  their  relig- 
ions, and  it  was  especially  prescribed  for  special  occasions 
and  people — the  seers  and  prophets  using  it.  In  America  we 
have  jealously  remembered  the  Puritan  feasts,  e.  g.,  Thanks- 
giving, and  as  carefully  forgotten  their  fasts,  e.  g.,  Good 
Friday,  perhaps  to  our  disadvantage.  In  the  early  church,  the 
custom  was  established  of  observing  Wednesday  and  Friday 
until  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  as  fast  days.  These  days 
were  designated  dies  stationum,  or  sentry  days,  when  the 
soldier  of  Christ  stood  on  guard.  At  this  time,  fasting  was 
also  practised  by  the  penitent  when  under  church  discipline.2 

Saints  and  monks  have  used  fasting  as  a  favorite  form  of 
self-denial,  and  one  which  repaid  them  in  producing  much- 
sought-after  religious  experiences.  The  traditional  fasting  of 
the  Roman  Catholic  Church  has,  by  the  rigidity  of  the  rule 
and  the  changes  wrought  by  time,  been  turned  into  luxury. 
To-day,  in  most  parts  of  this  country  at  least,  fish  is  more 

1  J.  B.  Pratt,  Psychology  0}  Religious  Belief,  pp.  60,  64  /.,  97  /.; 
F.  M.  Davenport,  Primitive  Traits  in  Religious  Revivals,  p.  56  /. 

2  G.  P.  Fisher,  History  of  the  Christian  Church,  p.  62. 


128  MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM 

rare  than  flesh.  Who  would  not  exchange  fried  tripe  for 
boiled  salmon,  and  willingly  suffer  all  the  sacrifice  which  it 
entailed?  The  sting  of  the  deprivation  or  the  value  of  the 
sacrifice  has  been  lost  in  the  shuffle.  There  has  lately  been 
a  movement  in  Dublin  to  request  the  Pope  to  change  the 
rule  so  that  it  shall  be  abstinence  from  alcoholic  liquors  that 
is  required,  instead  of  abstinence  from  meat.  While  this 
would  rob  the  total  abstainer  of  any  sacrifice,  it  would  con- 
fer both  a  physical  and  spiritual  benefit  on  the  others. 
The  rule  for  fasting  in  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  how- 
ever, is  not  the  same  for  all  countries;  in  Spain,  and  its 
colonies,  for  instance,  no  Friday  abstinence  is  required. 
Hygienic  rather  than  ascetic  fasting  is  the  fad,  or  perhaps 
the  valuable  agitation,  of  the  times,  and  more  men  are  ab- 
staining from  eating  for  their  stomach's  sake  than  for  the 
good  of  their  souls. 

Marvellous  tales  have  been  related  concerning  the  ability 
of  certain  persons,  mostly  saints,  to  fast.  A  wonderful  differ- 
ence is  to  be  noticed,  either  in  the  fasting  powers  of  different 
individuals  or  in  the  credulity  of  their  admirers  and  friends. 
St.  Catherine  fasted  for  several  years,  so  it  is  said,  while  St. 
Simeon  Stylites,  no  less  a  saint,  nearly  lost  his  life  by  trying 
to  fast  for  forty  days.  A  number  of  cases  of  famous  fasting 
girls  have  been  collated.1  Margaret  Weiss,  ten  years  old, 
who  lived  near  Spires,  went  without  food  and  drink  for  three 
years,  during  which  time  there  were  no  excretions.  In  the 
meantime  she  grew  and  acted  like  other  children.  Paulus 
Lentulus,  a  virgin  of  Berne,  went  without  food  for  over  two 
years.  She  was  watched  by  a  magistrate  without  detection 
of  fraud.  Katherine  Binder,  of  the  Palatinate,  was  closely 
watched  by  a  clergyman,  a  statesman,  and  two  doctors  of 
medicine,  but  no  fraud  was  detected.     She  had  nothing  but 

1  W.  A.  Hammond,  Spiritism  and  Nervous  Derangement,  pp.  263-268, 
from  which  the  following  cases  have  been  taken. 


MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM  129 

air  for  nine  years.  Eve  Fliegen,  of  Meurs,  took  no  food  for 
fourteen  years,  from  her  twenty-second  to  her  thirty-sixth 
year.  This  was  from  1597  to  1611.  Joan  Balaam,  of  Con- 
stance, went  three  years  without  eating,  and  exercised  ac- 
tively all  the  time.  She  gradually  learned  to  eat  and  drink 
again.  Near  Cologne,  another  girl  of  thirteen  did  not  eat 
for  three  years.  A  little  sugar  put  into  her  mouth  caused  her 
to  swoon.  She  acted  like  other  children  and  was  fleshy 
enough,  except  "only  that  her  belly  was  compressed  so  that  it 
seemed  to  cleave  to  her  backbone." 

About  181 1,  Ann  Moore,  of  Sudbury,  Staffordshire,  Eng- 
land, claimed  to  live  without  eating.  After  being  watched 
for  three  weeks  the  case  was  reported  genuine  and  she  became 
famous.  She  was  again  watched  for  nine  days  very  care- 
fully, at  the  end  of  which  time  she  had  to  confess  that  she 
was  an  impostor.  During  the  first  watch,  her  daughter, 
while  washing  her,  fed  her  by  using  towels  soaked  in  gravy, 
milk,  and  arrowroot  gruel,  and  conveyed  food  from  mouth  to 
mouth  by  kissing.  After  this  another  case  attracted  atten- 
tion, but  it  was  found  that  a  hysterical  girl  in  a  London 
hospital  obtained  food  from  the  other  patients.  The  most 
famous  case  of  recent  years  was  that  of  Sarah  Jacob,  known 
as  "the  Welsh  Fasting  Girl."  In  1867,  when  ten  years  old, 
she  had  an  illness  and  suffered  from  hysteria.  It  was  claimed 
that  for  two  years  and  two  months  she  lived  without  eating. 
A  loose  watch  of  three  weeks  was  maintained,  after  which 
the  case  was  reported  genuine.  Later,  some  hospital  nurses 
were  sent  to  watch,  and  the  parents  and  friends  were  kept 
from  the  bed.  The  girl  lived  for  only  a  few  days  after  this, 
and  the  jury  brought  in  a  verdict  of  "Starved  to  Death." 
The  father  was  sentenced  to  twelve  months'  and  the  mother 
to  six  months'  imprisonment.1 

I  have  quoted  an  epitome  of  these  cases  in  order  that  we 
1  See  also  F.  Galton,  Inquiries  into  the  Human  Faculty,  p.  207. 


i3o  MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM 

might  have  some  standard  by  which  to  judge  the  reputed 
fasting  of  the  ascetic  saints.  Where  fraud  is  carefully  ex- 
cluded the  tests  do  not  last  long,  and  although  there  are 
probably  great  differences  in  the  ability  of  people  to  fast,  it 
seems  hardly  possible  that  the  body  can  subsist  long  without 
food.  We  must  consider  all  cases  where  years  are  spoken 
of  as  fraud,  or  the  exaggeration  of  prejudiced  friends.  There 
is  no  doubt  that  some  saints  did  practise  fasting,  and  for  a 
purpose  which  seemed  legitimate  to  them.  Undoubtedly  the 
discovery  of  the  religious  value  of  fasting  was  accidental.  In 
primitive  times  when  the  race  was  stricken  by  famine,  or  the 
individual  suffered  from  hunger,  and  vitality  was  lowered 
even  to  include  trance  conditions,  then  visions  were  seen  and 
dreams  were  experienced  which  could  be  artificially  produced 
by  the  same  means.  Not  only  the  individual  religious  long- 
ings were  thus  satisfied,  but  the  tribe  thereby  obtained  the 
services  of  a  seer.1 

The  help  to  seeing  visions  and  having  dreams  is  the  chief 
reason  for  fasting  among  all  religionists.  "The  opening  of 
the  refectory  door  must  many  a  time  have  closed  the  gate  of 
heaven  to  the  ascetic's  gaze."  2  It  seems  hardly  possible 
that  heaven  is  lying  around  us,  and  fasting  will  put  us  into 
the  condition  for  recognizing  it,  as  some  of  the  saints  and 
early  mystics  maintained.3  We  know  from  experience,  out- 
side the  realm  of  religious  experiment,  that  lowered  vitality 
produces  illusions,  hallucinations,  and  delirium,  as  well  as 
we  know  that  moderate  fasting  may  be  beneficial  to  the 
activity  of  both  body  and  mind.  On  the  latter  point  we  have 
the  testimony  of  one  observer  regarding  the  inmates  of  the 
monastery  of  Our  Lady  of  the  Snows. 

1  C.  C.  Everett,  The  Psychological  Elements  of  Religious  Faith,  p. 
46  /.;   J.  Moses,  Pathological  Aspects  0}  Religions,  p.  238. 

2  E.  B.  Tylor,  Primitive  Culture,  II,  p.  415. 

3  F.  Granger,  The  Soul  0}  a  Christian,  p.  12. 


MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM  131 

"Without  doubt  the  most  of  mankind  grossly  overeat 
themselves;  our  meals  serve  not  only  for  support,  but  as  a 
hearty  and  natural  diversion  from  the  labor  of  life.  Yet, 
though  excess  may  be  hurtful,  I  should  have  thought  this 
Trappist  regimen  defective.  And  I  am  astonished,  as  I  look 
back,  at  the  freshness  of  face  and  cheerfulness  of  manner  of 
all  whom  I  beheld.  A  happier  nor  a  healthier  company  I 
should  scarce  suppose  that  I  have  ever  seen.  .  .  .  They 
seemed  all  firm  of  flesh  and  high  in  colour;  and  the  only 
morbid  sign  that  I  could  observe,  an  unusual  brilliancy  of 
the  eye,  was  one  that  served  rather  to  increase  the  general 
impression  of  vivacity  and  strength."  1 

Undoubtedly  there  are  some  virtues,  as  there  are  some 
vices,  which  are  peculiar  to  and  more  easily  cultivated  by  a 
fasting  saint.  In  fact,  we  see  these  in  equal  proportion  in 
the  saints  who  suffered  from  malnutrition ;  and  in  these  prac- 
tical, active,  and  positive  days  it  is  hardly  possible  that  we 
would  voluntarily  choose  these  anemic  virtues  if  we  had  to 
take  the  anemic  vices  with  them.  A  part  of  the  argument  has 
been  put  in  this  form:  "It  is  questionable  whether  the  visions 
induced  by  an  empty  stomach  are  of  any  greater  benefit  to 
humanity  than  the  nightmare  generated  by  an  overfilled  one. 
A  deficiency  of  red  corpuscles  undoubtedly  makes  certain 
temptations  less  alluring,  but  there  are  some  moral  diseases 
which,  like  physical  contagion,  more  readily  attack  a  weak- 
ened system.  After  forty  days  of  fasting  even  Christ  was 
approachable  by  the  devil.  A  fasting  person  may  be  more 
aspiring,  but  he  is  less  benevolent.  Abundant  domestic  ex- 
perience shows  that  before  dinner  a  man's  temper  is  not 
especially  angelic,  but  after  dinner  he  feels  more  kindly 
toward  his  fellow-men.  When  his  hunger  is  allayed  his 
selfishness  is  quelled.  It  is  the  hour  which  is  taken  advan- 
tage of  by  minstrels  to  approach  the  table  to  beg,  and  by  our 

1  R.  L.  Stevenson,  Journey  through  the  Cevennes,  p.  97. 


i32  MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM 

friends,  whose  most  atrocious  jests  are  received  by  indulgence 
and  even  applause."  1 

There  were  some  rebellions  among  the  monks  against  fast- 
ing. An  amusing  story  of  vigorous  protest  against  the  rule  of 
St.  Martin  of  Tours  comes  down  to  us.  The  Egyptian  monks 
could  live  on  a  few  figs  a  day,  but  the  rude  Gauls  who  followed 
Martin  were  just  emerging  out  of  barbarism  and  were  accus- 
tomed to  devour  great  slices  of  roasted  meat  and  to  drink 
deep  draughts  of  ale.  Such  sturdy  children  of  the  northern 
forests  did  not  take  kindly  to  dainty  morsels  of  barley  bread 
and  small  potations  of  wine.  Athanasius  had  said,  "Fasting 
is  the  food  of  angels,"  but  the  reply  of  Martin's  novices  was, 
"  We  are  accused  of  gluttony,  but  we  are  Gauls;  it  is  ridiculous 
and  cruel  to  make  us  live  like  angels;  we  are  not  angels;  once 
more,  we  are  only  Gauls."  This  was  the  protest  of  common 
sense  against  ascetic  fanaticism.  St.  Bonaventura  has  re- 
lated a  touching  story  of  St.  Francis  of  Assisi.  As  the  dying 
victim  of  asceticism  sank  back  exhausted  with  spitting  blood, 
he  avowed  while  viewing  his  emaciated  body  that  "he  had 
sinned  against  his  brother,  the  ass."  (This  was  Francis's 
name  for  his  body.)  Then,  his  mental  activity  taking,  as 
was  usual  with  him,  the  form  of  an  hallucination,  he  imagined 
that,  when  at  prayer  during  the  night,  he  heard  a  voice  say- 
ing, "Francis,  there  is  no  sinner  in  the  world  whom,  if  he  be 
converted,  God  will  not  pardon;  but  he  who  kills  himself  by 
hard  penances  will  find  no  mercy  in  eternity."  He  attributed 
the  voice  to  the  devil. 

Some  investigations  concerning  the  disturbances  of  the 
mind  caused  by  the  deprivation  of  food  were  recently  made 
by  Dr.  Lassiguardie,  a  French  physiologist.  The  Journal 
of  the  American  Medical  Association  sums  up  the  results  as 
follows:  "His  conclusions  were  to  the  effect  that  fasting 
promoted  the  development  of  the  intellectual  faculties,  es- 

1  Independent,  LX,  pp.  981  ff. 


MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM  133 

pecially  the  imagination.  In  actual  starvation  the  character 
changed  and  became  irritable  and  cruel,  with  loss  of  memory 
and  will  power,  and  development  of  hallucinations,  agreeable 
or  distressing.  He  has  recently  been  studying  the  miners 
who  were  buried  for  so  many  days  in  the  mine  at  Cour- 
rieres.  One  miner  was  not  released  until  after  an  interval  of 
twenty-five  days.  He  frequently  imagined  himself  at  home 
and  talked  with  his  wife,  and  imagined  that  he  found  scraps 
of  bread,  which  he  ate  with  relish.  Like  most  of  the  others, 
he  frequently  imagined  he  saw  bright  lights  before  him.  All 
the  miners  said  that  they  became  very  irritable  and  frequently 
quarrelled.  They  all  had  hallucinations,  generally  agreeable, 
but  nearly  all  retained  their  reason,  only  a  few  being  actual 
dupes  of  their  imagination." 

SOLITUDE 

Solitude  has  been  considered  an  important  part  of  ascetic 
life,  and  the  greater  religious  founders  and  leaders  craved  and 
insisted  on  seclusion.  Jesus  and  Paul,  no  less  than  Mo- 
hammed and  Buddha,  fled  to  the  desert  or  retired  from  the 
crowd.  Saints,  in  imitation  of  these  or  for  other  reasons, 
have  chosen  a  life  of  solitude.  Some  persons  are  tempera- 
mentally constituted  so  that  they  find  this  life  an  attractive 
one.  They  are  unable  to  adapt  themselves  to  social  duties 
and  requirements,  in  fact  they  seem  to  be  deficient  in  social 
instincts,  and  an  opportunity  for  silence  and  contemplation 
is  sought.  The  East  rather  than  the  West  supplies  this  type, 
and  conditions  of  climate  have  not  a  little  influence.1  With 
others  the  seclusion  was  not  voluntary.  About  the  middle  of 
the  third  century  persecution  drove  many  to  the  desert,  where 
they  lived  as  anchorites.  The  unpleasant  conditions  where 
anarchy  and  terror  reigned  for  the  next  thirty  years  aug- 
mented the  numbers,  and  at  the  beginning  of  the  fourth  cen- 

1  J.  Moses,  Pathological  Aspects  oj  Religions,  p.  254. 


i34  MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM 

tury,  the  ten  years'  persecution  of  Diocletian  again  forced 
many  into  involuntary  seclusion.1  Probably  many,  like  Paul 
of  Thebes,  the  first  Christian  hermit,  became  so  accustomed 
to  solitude  that  they  preferred  it  to  society. 

Some  were  stimulated  to  ascetic  retirement  by  the  state  of 
the  times  in  which  they  lived.  The  world  was  morally  cor- 
rupt and  the  purity  of  the  church  was  imperilled.  Alarmed 
at  this  condition,  not  a  few  who  lacked  the  courage  to  combat 
the  growing  depravity  sought  a  secure  retreat  where  they 
could  develop  religiously  outside  the  influence  of  evil.  Per- 
haps some  also  thought  that  evil  could  only  be  conquered  by 
withdrawing  from  it.2  Some  who  condemned  the  life  of  the 
anchorite  still  favored  the  calling  of  the  monk.  Among  these 
were  Basil  and  Jerome.  The  silence  and  gloom  of  the  solitary 
life,  together  with  the  heat  of  the  tropical  sun,  drove  many 
into  insanity,  and  the  dangers  and  excesses,  the  evils  and 
temptations  of  the  anchorite,  were  against  the  lonely  life. 
The  monk  suffered  from  these  things  also,  but  to  a  less  ex- 
tent. But  in  both  cases  it  was  a  withdrawal  from  the  world 
for  individual  piety. 

It  was  not  by  common  consent  that  the  solitary  life  was 
exalted,  for  some  objected  to  both  the  cell  and  the  monastery. 
They  claimed  that  Christians  who  fled  to  the  desert  or  to  the 
cloister  were  lost  to  the  world,  but  the  ascetic  answered  that 
the  prayers  of  the  godly  were  useful.  At  first  their  lives  did 
present  a  sharp  contrast  to  the  prevailing  corruption  of 
society,  but  unfortunately  this  condition  did  not  last.  Un- 
doubtedly the  chief  reason  for  the  solitary  life  was  the  oppor- 
tunity it  gave  for  personal  religious  development,  for  it  was 
considered  perfectly  legitimate  to  leave  the  world  to  the  devil 
while  trying  to  save  one's  own  soul.  "To  break  by  his  in- 
gratitude the  heart  of  the  mother  who  had  borne  him,  to 

1 T.  G.  Crippen,  History  of  Christian  Doctrine,  p.  156. 
'  G.  P.  Fisher,  History  0}  the  Christian  Church,  p.  ill. 


MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM  135 

persuade  the  wife  who  adored  him  that  it  was  her  duty  to 
separate  from  him  forever,  to  abandon  his  children,  uncared 
for  and  beggars,  to  the  mercy  of  the  world,  was  regarded  by 
the  true  hermit  as  the  most  acceptable  offering  he  could  make 
to  his  God.  His  business  was  to  save  his  own  soul.  The 
serenity  of  his  devotion  would  be  impaired  by  the  discharge 
of  the  simplest  duties  to  his  family."1  So  we  find  that 
parents'  hearts  were  broken,  mothers  were  spurned,  and  so 
great  was  the  demand  for  undisturbed  worship  that  it  is  said 
a  saint  called  Boniface  struck  dead  a  man  who  unintentionally 
disturbed  him  at  his  prayers. 

We  have  the  record  of  many  cases  of  retirement  by  saints 
who  had  become  so  famous  for  their  sanctity  that  they  had  to 
retreat  further  and  further  from  the  domain  of  man,  some- 
times without  avail.  St.  Simeon  Stylites  conceived  the  unique 
scheme  of  ascending  a  pillar  sixty  feet  high  to  attain  the 
solitude  of  which  his  fame  threatened  to  rob  him.  Anthony 
of  Thebes,  the  patron  saint  of  ascetics,  spent  his  life,  from 
his  youth,  in  the  desert.  The  first  few  years  he  used  wrestling 
with  evil  spirits,  but  he  abandoned  that  for  the  positive  life 
of  contemplation  and  good  works.  Tradition  has  embellished 
him  with  much  sanctity,  and  his  life  has  stood  as  the  pattern 
for  anchorites,  who,  following  him,  rapidly  increased  in  num- 
bers, spreading  their  cells  over  the  desolate  and  secluded 
regions  of  Egypt,  Syria,  and  Palestine. 

Psychologically  the  saint  found  seclusion  of  great  religious 
value.  In  solitude  it  is  natural  to  experience  a  great  range 
of  feelings,  and  usually  extremes  of  feeling.2  The  saint  was 
either  in  the  depths  of  depression  or  on  the  heights  of  exalta- 

1  W.  E.  H.  Lecky,  History  of  European  Morals,  II,  p.  125;  see 
further,  pp.  127-131,  for  the  monk's  insane  determination  to  be  separated 
from  women,  even  refusing  to  look  upon  or  receive  a  visit  from  aged 
and  pleading  mothers  and  sisters.  Simeon  Stylites  killed  his  mother  in 
this  way. 

2  F.  Granger,  The  Soul  0}  a  Christian,  p.  101. 


136  MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM 

tion,  either  fighting  with  the  devil  or  in  intimate  and  friendly 
conversation  with  the  Lord.  In  ecstasy,  either  demons  or 
angels  were  his  companions,  but  seldom  or  never  did  common 
men  and  women  enter  his  field  of  vision  at  such  times.  These 
extremes  of  feeling  satisfied  the  cravings  of  the  anchorites. 
The  solitary  state  was  also  conducive  to  the  production  of 
visions  and  dreams,  ecstasy  and  possession,  especially  as  it 
was  almost  unavoidably  associated  with  some  degree  of  fast- 
ing. It  was  usually  in  solitude  that  the  saint  received  mes- 
sages and  other  forms  of  revelation,  which  he  afterward 
divulged  to  his  less  fortunate  fellow-men;  and  it  was  here 
also  that  he  overcame  the  fierce  temptations  which  vied  in 
intensity  with  more  carnal  victories.  The  inevitable  fixation 
of  thought  tended  to  assist  these  hallucinatory  experiences, 
especially  when  combined  with  the  lack  of  ordinary  stimuli.1 
Rather  more  prosaic,  but  a  not  less  valuable  function  of 
solitude,  was  the  stimulus  which  it  gave  and  the  opportunity 
which  it  allowed  for  study  and  contemplation.  The  monk  or 
anchorite,  being  freed  from  the  distractions  of  the  common 
duties  of  life,  with  few  personal  needs  and  no  social  demands, 
could  devote  himself  to  uninterrupted  intellectual  work. 
And  well  it  was  for  civilization  that  the  monk  did  thus  em- 
ploy his  time,  for  we  owe  it  to  him  that  much  of  the  ancient 
treasure  has  been  preserved,  as  well  as  that  many  new  and 
valuable  additions  have  been  made  to  the  life  of  the  Middle 
Ages. 

Paradoxical  as  it  may  seem,  the  world  which  the  anchorite 
pretended  to  eschew  was  absolutely  indispensable  to  him. 
Only  let  some  breathless  messenger  reach  the  cavern  of  the 
hermit  and  announce  to  him  that  his  love  of  solitude  was  at 
length  effectively  and  forever  gratified  by  the  utter  extinction 
of  the  human  race,  and  solitude,  from  that  instant,  would  not 

1  H.  R.  Marshall,  "The  Function  of  Religious  Expression,"  Mind, 
N.  S.,  VI,  pp.  182  fj. 


MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM  137 

merely  lose  all  its  fancied  charms,  but  would  become  terrible 
and  insufferable;  and  this  man  of  seclusion,  starting  like  a 
maniac  from  his  wilderness,  would  run  round  the  world  in 
search  of  some  possible  straggling  survivors. 

It  seems  hardly  necessary  to  note  the  injurious  aspects  of 
asceticism,  so  obvious  to  all.  The  tendency  to  inordinate 
selfishness,  the  withdrawal  of  so  many  persons  from  the 
active  affairs  of  life,  the  atrophy  of  altruistic  virtues,  and  the 
opportunity  for  immorality  under  the  guise  of  the  isolated 
life,  cannot  be  disregarded  in  a  study  of  the  effects  of  seclusion. 
Spiritual  pride  was  also  fostered  in  the  solitary  life.  It  is 
well  to  notice  that  a  man  may  be  as  truly  selfish  about  the 
next  world  as  about  this. 

TORTURE 

The  positive  side  of  the  ascetic's  attitude  toward  the  body 
was  that  of  torture.  The  most  energetic  frequently  sub- 
jected themselves  to  every  form  of  physical  suffering,  often 
devising  curious  and  extravagant  modes  of  self-torture.  By 
crucifying  the  body  mystical  communion  with  God  was  sup- 
posed to  be  realized,  and  thereby  the  joys  of  heaven  were 
experienced.  But  this  torture  is  seldom  or  never  really  self- 
ish. It  is  the  blind  way  which  men  have  of  trying  to  obtain 
satisfaction  for  the  religious  impulse  of  self -surrender.1  This 
is  founded  on  a  wrong  conception  of  God.  To  this  class  of 
ascetics,  God  is  not  a  kind  and  loving  Father,  but  an  angry 
and  revengeful  Master.  He  is,  therefore,  much  pleased  by 
painful  sufferings  and  cruel  martyrdoms.2  All  torture  then 
becomes  propitiation  to  this  kind  of  Deity,  and  merit  was 
thus  acquired  by  the  maltreatment  of  the  body. 

There  were  many  other  causes  of  torture.  It  was  nurtured 
by  the  instinctive  recoil  against  the  poison  of  sensuality, 

1  G.  T.  Ladd,  The  Philosophy  of  Religion,  I,  p.  297. 

2  J.  Moses,  Pathological  Aspects  0}  Religions,  p.  244. 


138  MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM 

which  had  helped  to  destroy  the  old  civilization.1  This 
recoil  was  shown  by  all  degrees  of  austerities.  The  rules  of 
the  monks  were  severe,  but  the  monks  vied  with  each  other 
in  adding  voluntary  hardships  and  torture,  and  the  ancho- 
rites tried  to  surpass  the  experiences  of  former  days,  both 
their  own  and  others.  Some  found  a  sort  of  morbid  pleas- 
ure in  the  most  excruciating  pain  by  some  strange  inver- 
sion of  feeling,  but  with  others  it  was  always  objectionable 
and  they  had  to  drive  themselves  to  it.  Tauler  did  not  value 
torture  per  se,  and  said,  "we  are  to  kill  our  passions,  not  our 
flesh  and  blood,"  but  many  others  thought  the  two  synony- 
mous, and  to  them  there  was  no  such  thing  as  killing  passions 
without  destroying  the  body.  Jovinian  (406),  although  him- 
self a  celibate  and  an  ascetic,  went  so  far  as  to  hold  that  all 
these  austerities  were  purely  voluntary,  and  involved  no 
peculiar  merit.  He  maintained  that  the  ordinary  Christian 
life  was  holy.  The  Roman  Catholic  Church  decrees  that 
health  must  not  be  sacrificed  to  mortification,  for  the  latter  is 
not  an  end  in  itself,  and  because  both  may  be-  means  to  a 
higher  attainment  neither  should  be  advanced  at  the  expense 
of  the  other.  St.  John  of  the  Cross  presented  the  life  of 
holiness  in  a  very  repellent  aspect  and  welcomed  every  kind 
of  suffering,  choosing  the  most  painful  because  it  was  such. 
Henry  Suso  succeeded  in  taming  his  body  after  sixteen  years 
of  cruel  austerities,  but  many  others  found  that  their  efforts 
were  never  successful,  and  that  the  older  they  grew  the  more 
severe  the  tortures  necessary.  The  widely  varying  effects  of 
torture  on  different  people,  and  the  different  ideas  concerning 
its  value  and  use,  only  go  to  show,  what  we  meet  with  at  every 
turn,  that  the  same  stimuli  cause  vastly  different  reactions 
when  they  meet  with  different  temperaments. 

Torture  of  a  more  refined  character  than  bodily  mutila- 
tion was  sometimes  practised.     Sometimes  men  on  entering 

1  W.  R.  Inge,  Christian  Mysticism,  p.  244. 


MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM  139 

a  monastery  were  commanded  by  the  abbot  to  throw  their 
sons  into  a  river  or  into  a  fire,  or  to  watch  all  kinds  of  pun- 
ishment and  torture  inflicted  upon  the  innocent  little  ones. 
They  usually  obeyed  these  inhuman  commands,  and  thereby 
showed  their  separation  from  the  world  and  their  love  to 
Christ.  To  outrage  the  affections  of  the  nearest  and  dearest 
relations  was  not  only  regarded  as  innocent,  but  proposed  as 
the  highest  virtue. 

These  ascetic  practices  did  enable  the  spiritually  ambitious 
to  rise  above  their  surroundings,  and  the  delirium  and  visions 
of  the  sick  and  weakened  were  vouchsafed  to  the  tortured. 
Suso  was  favored  by  many  visions,  the  most  valuable  of 
which  was  the  one  by  which  he  was  informed  that  he  was 
relieved  of  the  obligation  of  further  torture.  Even  those  who 
have  not  felt  the  necessity  of  torturing  themselves  have  ad- 
mired the  ascetics  and  monks  who  have  had  such  supreme 
contempt  for  the  physical  man  that  they  would  undergo  so 
much  mutilation  of  the  body  to  make  the  soul  more  perfect. 
Many,  who  have  eschewed  the  monastery  and  the  cell  of  the 
anchorite  have,  in  their  despair  of  attaining  self-mastery, 
even  amid  the  usual  surroundings  of  life,  fled  to  special  means 
of  self-torture  that  they  might  win  the  indispensable  victory. 
The  great  trouble  has  been  that  torture  not  infrequently  de- 
feated the  end  in  view  by  emphasizing  and  keeping  in  prom- 
inence the  very  body  and  passions  which  it  tried  to  destroy. 
Indifference,  rather  than  torture,  would  have  accomplished 
the  object  far  better,  and  to  have  dwelt  upon  the  spiritual 
edification  rather  than  the  physical  destruction  would  have 
given  success  to  many  who  knew  only  failure.  Torture 
may  have  been  valuable  in  some  cases,  but  it  is  only  an- 
other example  of  the  fact  that  "the  fruits  of  religion  .  .  . 
are,  like  all  human  products,  liable  to  corruption  by  ex- 
cess." ' 

1  W.  James,  The  Varieties  oj  Religious  Experience,  p.  339. 


140  MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM 

As  an  example  of  the  extent  to  which  torture  was  carried, 
let  us  take  the  case  of  Henry  Suso,  rather  than  recite  the 
various  forms  resorted  to  by  many  ascetics  who  might  be 
portrayed. 

"He  sought  by  many  devices  how  he  might  bring  his  body 
into  subjection.  He  wore  for  a  long  time  a  hair  shirt  and 
an  iron  chain,  until  the  blood  ran  from  him,  so  that  he  was 
obliged  to  leave  them  off.  He  secretly  caused  an  under- 
garment to  be  made  for  him;  and  in  the  undergarment  he 
had  strips  of  leather  fixed,  into  which  a  hundred  and  fifty 
brass  nails,  pointed  and  filed  sharp,  were  driven,  and  the 
points  of  the  nails  were  always  turned  toward  the  flesh.  He 
had  this  garment  made  very  tight,  and  so  arranged  as  to  go 
around  him  and  fasten  in  front,  in  order  that  it  might  fit  the 
closer  to  his  body,  and  the  pointed  nails  might  be  driven 
into  his  flesh;  and  it  was  high  enough  to  reach  upwards  to  his 
navel.  In  this  he  used  to  sleep  at  night.  ...  It  often 
seemed  to  him  as  if  he  were  lying  upon  an  ant-hill,  from  the 
torture  caused  by  the  insects  [lice,  which  were  an  unfailing 
token  of  mediaeval  sainthood];  for  if  he  wished  to  sleep,  or 
when  he  had  fallen  asleep,  they  vied  with  one  another.  .  .  . 
He  devised  something  further — two  leathern  loops  into 
which  he  put  his  hands,  and  fastened  one  on  each  side  his 
throat,  and  made  the  fastenings-  so  secure  that  even  if  his 
cell  had  been  on  fire  about  him  he  could  not  have  helped 
himself.  This  he  continued  until  his  hands  and  arms  had 
become  tremulous  with  the  strain,  and  then  he  devised  some- 
thing else:  two  leather  gloves;  and  he  caused  a  brazier  to 
fit  them  all  over  with  sharp-pointed  brass  tacks,  and  he  used 
to  put  them  on  at  night,  in  order  that  if  he  should  try  while 
asleep  to  throw  off  the  hair  undergarment,  or  relieve  him- 
self from  the  gnawings  of  the  vile  insects,  the  tacks  might 
then  stick  into  his  body.  And  so  it  came  to  pass.  If 
ever  he  sought  to  help  himself  with  his  hands  in  his  sleep, 


MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM  141 

he  drove  the  sharp  tacks  into  his  breast,  and  tore  himself, 
so  that  his  flesh  festered.  When  after  many  weeks  the 
wounds  had  healed,  he  tore  himself  again  and  made  fresh 
wounds." 

Suso  then  tells  how,  to  emulate  the  sorrows  of  his  crucified 
Lord,  he  made  himself  a  cross  with  thirty  protruding  iron 
needles  and  nails.  This  he  bore  on  his  bare  back  between  his 
shoulders  day  and  night.  "The  first  time  that  he  stretched 
out  this  cross  upon  his  back  his  tender  frame  was  struck  with 
terror  at  it,  and  blunted  the  sharp  nails  slightly  against  a 
stone.  But  soon,  repenting  of  this  womanly  cowardice,  he 
pointed  them  all  again  with  a  file  and  placed  once  more  the 
cross  upon  him.  It  made  his  back,  where  the  bones  are, 
bloody  and  seared.  Whenever  he  sat  down  or  stood  up,  it  was 
as  if  a  hedgehog-skin  were  on  him.  If  any  one  touched  him 
unawares,  or  pushed  against  his  clothes,  it  tore  him.  ...  At 
this  same  period  the  Servitor  procured  an  old  castaway 
door,  and  he  used  to  lie  upon  it  at  night  without  any  bed- 
clothes to  make  him  comfortable,  except  that  he  took  off  his 
shoes  and  wrapped  a  thick  cloak  round  him.  ...  In  win- 
ter he  suffered  very  much  from  the  frost.  If  he  stretched  out 
his  feet  they  lay  bare  on  the  floor  and  froze,  and  if  he  gathered 
them  up  the  blood  became  all  on  fire  in  his  legs,  and  this  was 
great  pain.  His  feet  were  full  of  sores,  his  legs  dropsical,  his 
knees  bloody  and  seared,  his  loins  covered  with  scars  from 
the  horsehair,  his  body  wasted,  his  mouth  parched  with  in- 
tense thirst,  and  his  hands  tremulous  from  weakness.  .  .  . 
Throughout  all  these  years  [twenty-five]  he  never  took  a  bath, 
either  a  water  or  a  sweating  bath;  and  this  he  did  in  order  to 
mortify  his  comfort-seeking  body.  He  practised  during  a 
long  time  such  rigid  poverty  that  he  would  neither  receive  nor 
touch  a  penny,  either  with  leave  or  without  it.  For  a  con- 
siderable time  he  strove  to  attain  such  a  high  degree  of  purity 
that  he  would  neither  scratch  nor  touch  any  part  of  his  body, 


i42  MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM 

save  only  his  hands  and  feet."  !  If,  as  some  authors  think, 
the  impulse  to  sacrifice  is  the  main  religious  phenomenon, 
then  Suso  was  the  most  religious  of  men. 

Other  experiences  have  come  to  the  saint  which  we  can- 
not discuss  in  full  here.2  Some  saints  are  said  to  have  ex- 
haled a  delicious  perfume,  "the  odor  of  sanctity."  From  the 
personal  habits  of  most  of  those  of  whom  we  have  record,  we 
should  be  inclined  to  think  that  it  must  have  been  far  from 
agreeable.  St.  Antony  had  never,  to  extreme  old  age,  been 
guilty  of  washing  his  feet;  St.  Poeman  fell  into  the  same 
habit  late  in  life.  St.  Abraham,  who  lived  fifty  years  after 
his  conversion,  never  washed  his  face  or  feet  after  that  time; 
his  biographer  somewhat  strangely  remarks  that  "his  face 
reflected  the  purity  of  his  soul."  A  famous  virgin  named 
Silvia  rigidly  refused  to  wash  any  part  of  her  body  except  her 
fingers.  St.  Euphraxia  joined  a  convent  of  one  hundred  and 
thirty  nuns  who  never  washed  their  feet,  and  who  shuddered 
at  the  mention  of  a  bath.  Paula  said,  "A  clean  body  and  a 
clean  dress  mean  an  unclean  soul";  Jerome  wrote  Rusticus, 
"  Baths  stimulate  the  senses  and  are  therefore  to  be  avoided." 
The  occasional  degeneration  of  the  monks  into  habits  of 
decency  was  a  subject  of  much  reproach. 

But  this  "odor  of  sanctity"  was  not  only  a  product  of  the 
living  body  but  it  is  said  to  have  been  emitted  from -the 
corpses  of  some  saints.  Recent  investigations  have  been 
made  to  ascertain  if  there  were  any  scientific  foundation  for 
the  reports.  The  following  quotation  gives  an  epitome  of  the 
results. 

"In  Malory's  'History  of  Prince  Arthur,'  written  in  the 

1  The  Life  of  the  Blessed  Henry  Siiso,  by  Himself  (trans.  T.  F.  Knox), 
pp.  56-80,  quoted  by  W.  James,  The  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience, 

PP-  3°7  ft- 

2  For  an  epitome  of  these  experiences,  see  W.  E.  Lecky,  History  of 

European  Morals,  II,  pp.  107-112. 


MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM  143 

fifteenth  century,  .  .  .  when  his  comrades  found  Sir  Launce- 
lot  dead,  they  noticed  'the  sweetest  savor  about  him  that 
ever  they  smelled.'  Malory  explains  that  this  was  the  odor 
of  sanctity.  In  the  Revue  de  Paris  for  December  1,  Dr.  George 
Dumas  analyzes  materialistically,  but  not  unkindly,  a  num- 
ber of  the  legends  of  this  odor  recorded  of  the  saints  of  the 
church.  While  recognizing  the  elusive  nature  of  odors,  how 
easily  one  may  be  mistaken  for  another,  and  how  possible  it 
is  to  fancy  them,  Dr.  Dumas  credits  most  of  these  stories; 
but  he  spoils  his  testimony  by  explaining  them.  For  exam- 
ple, St.  Theresa's  death  is  traced  to  diabetic  acetonomy,  and 
from  the  facts  of  physiology  he  shows  how  likely  pleasant 
odors  might  be  observed  in  such  a  case.  Usually,  the  saintly 
odors  are  compared  to  those  of  violet,  pineapple,  musk, 
benzoin,  yellow  amber,  canella,  cloves,  orange,  lily,  and  rose. 
For  many  of  these  it  is  now  possible  to  substitute  chemical 
terms.  In  cases  where  the  nutrition  is  checked  acetones  and 
fatty  acids  may  be  developed.  These,  combining  with  alde- 
hydes and  acetous  aromatic  derivatives  of  alcohol,  give  rise 
to  the  perfumes  of  the  orange  or  violet,  or  it  may  be  to  those 
of  canella  or  musk.  Butyric  ether,  with  a  little  bicarbonate 
of  soda,  will  yield  the  odor  of  pineapple.  Subject  to  special 
modifications,  Dr.  Dumas  gives  C6H12Os  as  the  formula  for 
the  odor  of  sanctity."  l 

Some  cases  of  "transfiguration"  have  also  been  reported. 
George  Fox  says  of  himself  on  one  occasion  (Journal,  1647), 
"I  was  very  much  altered  in  countenance  and  person,  as  if 
my  body  had  been  new  moulded  and  changed."  The  Nor- 
folk Beacon,  August  19, 1824,  reports  the  case  of  Miss  Narcissa 
Crippen,  whose  face  became  transformed  and  dazzling  when 
on   one   occasion   she   experienced   ecstasy.2    The   case  of 

1The  National  Druggist:  March,  1908,  quoting  The  Chemist  and 
Druggist. 

2  W.  A.  Hammond,  Spiritism  and  Nervous  Derangement,  p.  298. 


i44  MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM 

Valentine   Burke,   reported   by   Mr.    Moody,   while   taking 
longer  to  accomplish,  might  be  classed  here. 

So  far  we  have  said  little  of  women  in  connection  with 
monastic  life,  but  we  find  that  the  origin  of  nunneries  was 
contemporaneous  with  that  of  monasteries,  and  the  history 
of  female  recluses  runs  parallel  to  that  of  the  monks.  Almost 
every  male  order  had  its  counterpart  in  some  sort  of  a  sister- 
hood. The  general  moral  character  of  these  female  organiza- 
tions was  higher  than  that  of  their  brethren.  Hermit  life  was 
unsuited  to  women,  but  they  early  retired  to  the  seclusion  of 
convent  life.  The  frivolity,  shallowness,  and  immorality  of 
the  life  of  women  drove  the  more  thoughtful  ones  to  attempt 
a  more  serious  existence,  and  at  that  time  this  could  only  be 
found  in  religious  orders.  On  account  of  the  fine  quality  of 
mercy  that  distinguished  woman's  character,  even  although 
she  retired  to  a  convent,  she  could  not  forget  her  fellow- 
creatures  so  completely  as  the  monks;  she  was  always  less 
selfish  in  her  asceticism  than  her  male  companions.  In  the 
main,  however,  the  male  and  female  ascetics  were  much 
alike.1     I  append  a  chronological  table: 

A.D. 

Ignatius  writes  to  a  convent  of  virgins      .  107 

Council  of  Chalcedon  formulates  rules      .  154 

Paul  of  Thebes 228-340 

St.  Antony  gathers  hermits  into  lauras       .  251-356 
Monasteries  built  and  monks  live  together,  300 
Pachomius  forms  first  set  of  rules  for  mon- 
astery          340 

Macarius  of  Alexandria  attracts  many      .  394 

Basil  builds  monastery  in  Asia  and  has 

strict  rules 33°~379 

Jerome  translated  Pachomius'  rule  .        .  340-420 
Monasticism  recognized  as  an  integral  part 

of  the  church      .        .        .        about  375 

Benedictines 529 

'A.  W.  Wishart,  Monks  and  Monasteries,  pp.  106-115. 


MONASTICISM  AND  ASCETICISM 


145 


Columbanes 

543-615 

Cluniacs    ..... 

910 

Carthusians       .        . 

1084 

Knights  of  St.  John 

1074 

Cistercians 

1098 

Beguines  . 

1 100 

Templars  . 

1119 

Premonstratenians     . 

1126 

Carmelites 

1156 

Franciscans 

1209 

Dominicans 

1215 

Jesuits 

1534 

Trappists 

1664 

CHAPTER  XII 

RELIGIOUS  EPIDEMICS 

"Was  ever  feather  so  lightly  blown  to  and  fro  as  this  multitude?" — 
Shakespeare. 

Social  groups  at  certain  times  and  under  certain  circum- 
stances are  easily  stampeded.  This  is  true  of  both  animals 
and  men.  It  is  true  regardless  of  the  occurrence  which  may 
initiate  it,  but  probably  more  true  when  the  incident  happens 
to  be  one  which  seems  vital  to  the  social  group.  Perhaps  we 
have  no  better  examples  of  psychic  epidemics  than  those 
furnished  by  religious  incidents — religion  is  a  vital  issue. 
The  history  of  Christianity,  which  lies  open  before  every  one 
who  will  read,  gives  indisputable  evidence  of  this.  It  is  not 
only  true  of  Christianity,  however,  but  as  this  alone  is  our 
concern  we  confine  ourselves  to  viewing  the  phenomena  from 
this  standpoint  only.  The  first  seventeen  hundred  years  of 
the  Christian  era,  or  perhaps  more  definitely  we  should  say 
the  years  from  the  middle  of  the  third  century  to  the  end  of 
the  seventeenth,  are  made  up  of  one  succession  of  religious 
epidemics. 

The  experience  of  men  as  recorded  in  history  is  seen  to 
move  in  waves.  The  more  primitive  the  group  the  shorter 
the  wave,  other  things  being  equal;  but  the  rapid  com- 
munication of  later  years  has  more  than  counteracted  the 
advance  in  civilization,  for  while  the  latter  tends  to  lengthen 
and  modify  the  epidemic,  the  former  makes  it  much  shorter 
and  more  intense.  Individual  history  also  moves  in  waves; 
from  the  crest  of  one  interest  through  the  valley  of  monotony 

146 


RELIGIOUS  EPIDEMICS  147 

to  the  crest  of  a  new  interest — thus  the  surges  roll.  The 
effect  of  social  suggestibility,  the  heightened  power  of  mob 
consciousness,  intensifies  and  augments  the  individual  waves. 
It  is  as  though  the  myriads  of  ripples,  making  but  little  im- 
pression on  the  sandy  beach,  were  united  in  one  great  wave 
which  should  overwhelm  the  shore.  Now,  religion  being  the 
most  vital  issue  and  the  chief  business  of  mankind  for  the 
first  seventeen  centuries  of  this  era,  it  is  only  natural  to  sup- 
pose that  all  social  excitement  should  centre  upon  this  one 
theme,  since  most  individual  effort  was  directed  into  this 
channel.     These  we  find  to  be  the  facts. 

During  the  first  two  hundred  and  fifty  years  of  Christianity 
a  Christian  epidemic  was  impossible.  In  the  first  place,  it 
was  a  time  of  beginnings.  There  were  hardly  enough  Chris- 
tians to  constitute  an  epidemic;  they  were  unorganized,  un- 
acquainted, and  their  energies  were  chiefly  directed  in  an 
effort  to  keep  out  of  the  circus  and  the  open  claws  and  gaping 
mouths  of  the  Emperor's  lions,  or  to  escape  the  prisons  and 
the  galleys.  This  furnished  all  the  excitement  necessary  for 
health,  and  was  the  chief  concern  and  subject  of  conversation 
and  thought,  together  with  the  desire  to  add  to  their  num- 
bers. Later,  when  persecution  was  lessened,  when  the  num- 
bers became  greater,  and  when  opportunity  for  meditation  was 
given,  there  sprang  up  a  form  of  mental  epidemic  which  had 
only  to  be  suggested  to  be  carried  into  the  manifold  phases  of 
Christian  activity;  and  only  a  new  and  more  wholesome  view 
of  life  has  tended  to  cause  it  to  decay  in  the  last  five  hundred 
years.  I  refer  to  Monasticism,  which  was  discussed  in  the 
last  chapter. 

Perhaps  some  would  say,  "We  cannot  call  this  an  epidemic, 
for  it  meant  separating  men  from  the  world  rather  than 
bringing  them  together  in  a  social  group."  That  is  the  result 
of  the  epidemic,  but  from  the  time  of  Paul  of  Thebes  down 
through  the   Dark  and  Middle  Ages,  when  this  form  of 


i48  RELIGIOUS  EPIDEMICS 

psychic  contagion  joined  itself  to  other  forms  as  they  ap- 
peared, as  when  certain  orders  were  formed  to  assist  in  the 
Crusades,  social  suggestibility  was  the  kernel  of  the  move- 
ment. At  one  time  this  movement  swept  over  the  country  so 
as  to  include  the  mass  of  the  people  in  its  sympathy,  and 
almost  incredible  numbers  in  actual  residence  in  monasteries. 
After  the  first  blaze  of  enthusiasm  under  Paul,  Anthony, 
Pachomius,  and  Basil,  the  flame  died  down  under  the  un- 
favorable circumstances  of  the  fifth  and  sixth  centuries,  and 
had  some  other  suggestion  been  brought  forward  at  this 
time  Monasticism  would  probably  have  been  forgotten;  but 
Monasticism  held  the  minds  of  the  people.  The  revival 
under  Benedict,  after  the  foundation  of  the  order  which  bears 
his  name,  was  sufficient  to  arouse  the  slumbering  people, 
and  with  the  ardor  of  an  entirely  new  movement  it  swept  the 
world  from  the  storm-bound  coasts  of  England  to  the  sunny 
deserts  of  Egypt,  and  from  the  Pillars  of  Hercules  to  the  land 
of  Ur. 

It  is  said  that  St.  Pachomius  had  14,000  monks  in  his 
monastery,  7,000  of  whom  were  under  his  own  rule.  St. 
Jerome  said  that  50,000  monks  were  sometimes  assembled  at 
the  Easter  festivals.  An  Egyptian  city  named  Oxyrynchus, 
which  devoted  itself  almost  exclusively  to  the  ascetic  life, 
contained  20,000  virgins  and  10,000  monks.  Five  thousand 
monks  were  sometimes  under  one  abbot,  and  St.  Serapion 
presided  over  10,000.  In  the  fifth  century  there  were  more 
than  100,000  persons  in  monasteries,  three-quarters  of  whom 
were  men;  the  monastic  population  in  the  greater  part  of 
Egypt  was  nearly  equal  to  the  population  of  the  cities.  These 
figures  pertain,  however,  to  the  beginnings,  and  are  small 
compared  with  the  enormous  numbers  gathered  in  monas- 
teries after  the  Benedictine  revival. 

At  one  time  the  Benedictine  order  alone  had  not  less  than 
37,000  monasteries,  and  for  the  space  of  two  hundred  and 


RELIGIOUS  EPIDEMICS  149 

thirty-nine  years  this  order  governed  the  church  by  forty-eight 
popes  chosen  from  their  number.  They  boast  of  200  car- 
dinals, 7,000  archbishops,  15,000  bishops,  and  4,000  saints. 
The  assertion  is  also  made  that  no  less  than  twenty  emperors 
and  forty-seven  kings  resigned  their  crowns  to  become 
Benedictine  monks,  and  ten  empresses  and  fifty  queens  were 
included  among  their  converts.  Bernard  of  Clairvaux,  of 
the  Cistercians,  had  phenomenal  success  in  winning  men  to 
the  monastic  life.  It  was  said  that  "mothers  hid  their  sons, 
wives  their  husbands,  and  companions  their  friends,  lest  they 
be  persuaded  by  his  eloquent  message  to  enter  the  cloister." 
"He  was  avoided  like  the  plague." 

In  the  twelfth  century  the  Clufiiacs  had  2,000  monasteries 
situated  in  France,  besides  many  in  other  countries.  It 
seems  hardly  credible;  we  wonder  whence  the  people 
came  to  inhabit  them.  In  less  than  fifty  years  after  the 
foundation  of  the  Franciscan  order  it  consisted  of  200,000 
members  and  had  8,000  houses.  When  we  consider  the 
number  of  orders  we  can  compute  the  prevalence  of  the 
epidemic. 

This,  in  common  with  all  epidemics,  exhibited  gross  exag- 
geration, and  the  higher  faculties  of  the  people  seemed  to  be 
in  abeyance.  Women  were  shunned  and  hated,  to  prove 
purity;  wealth  was  shunned,  to  show  unworldliness;  and 
friend  had  no  more  claim  on  friend  than  the  bitterest  enemy, 
to  exhibit  charity.  To  eschew  idle  words  a  monk  held  a 
stone  in  his  mouth  three  years;  pride  was  defeated  by  dis- 
figuring the  body  to  prevent  being  appointed  bishop;  idiocy 
was  feigned  to  stop  the  spread  of  a  reputation  for  wisdom; 
the  plundered  monk  pursued  the  robber  to  give  him  something 
he  had  overlooked.  Aristotle  the  pagan  might  have  taught 
the  Christian  his  valuable  system  of  ethics  with  profit,  for  the 
mean  certainly  has  much  advantage  over  extremes  of  this  kind. 
But  to  say  that  there  was  an  epidemic  is  to  predicate  extremes. 


i5o  RELIGIOUS  EPIDEMICS 

The  decline  of  Monasticism  was  brought  about  by  three 
factors:  a  renewal  of  activity  both  inside  and  outside  the 
church,  of  which  the  crusades  were  an  example;  the  found- 
ing of  the  mendicant  orders  in  the  early  part  of  the  thirteenth 
century,  which  struck  a  blow  at  retirement;  and  the  choice 
made  against  poverty  by  both  church  and  orders  in  1321. 
Monasticism  gave  way  to  a  life  of  more  valuable  activity. 

Before  passing  from  this  epidemic,  attention  must  be  called 
to  one  important  element.  Monasticism  was  not  only  an 
epidemic  itself,  but  it  did  much  to  prepare  the  ground  for  the 
Golden  Age  of  epidemics,  the  Middle  Ages.  The  reader  will 
recall  that  the  rule  of  all  monasteries  contained  for  a  basis 
three  factors,  however  many  more  might  be  added.  These 
were  obedience,  poverty,  and  chastity.  Now,  one  character- 
istic of  the  Middle  Ages  was  the  great  weight  of  authority. 
In  the  monastery  and  out,  a  person's  life  was  planned  for  him 
by  custom  and  the  will  of  another,  so  that  there  was  little  or 
no  exercise  of  the  individual  will.  Every  detail  of  life  was 
fixed  through  the  various  classes  and  groups  into  which 
society  was  divided,  and  the  monk  especially  knew  no  ex- 
ception to  this  law  of  obedience.  It  cannot  be  doubted  that 
the  influence  of  the  monastery  on  the  outside  world  was  in 
the  direction  of  the  abnegation  of  individual  initiative.  The 
part  which  the  individual  had  in  the  direction  of  his  life  was 
confined  to  its  narrowest  limits.  Nothing  could  be  more 
favorable  to  the  exercise  of  the  subconsciousness,  and  the 
effect  of  suggestion  is  easily  seen. 

In  addition  to  this,  other  circumstances  added  to  the  de- 
velopment of  the  mob  consciousness  among  a  diversified 
people:  the  great  religious  zeal  already  referred  to,  the 
thirst  for  colonization  and  conquest  which  exhibited  itself  in 
any  direction  presented,  and  commercial  relations,  which  were 
now  extending  so  as  to  influence  public  opinion  and  make  of 
a  heterogeneous  mass  a  more  or  less  homogeneous  people. 


RELIGIOUS  EPIDEMICS  151 

These,  coupled  with  the  social  conditions  which  were  brought 
about  not  a  little  by  the  influence  of  monasticism,  prepared 
the  people  for  the  suggestible  state  which  at  times  bordered 
on  to,  if  it  did  not  quite  enter,  the  region  of  real  mania. 

The  beginning  of  the  mediaeval  epidemics  is  seen  in  the 
influx  of  pilgrims  to  the  Holy  Land.  Pilgrimages  are  not 
original  with  Christianity.  In  primitive  religions  the  gods 
were  local  and  could  only  be  approached  in  certain  places. 
As  their  worshippers  became  scattered,  pilgrimages  were 
necessary.  Where  miracles  were  performed,  or  the  gods 
seemed  to  appear  with  special  power,  people  flocked  to  wor- 
ship, as  it  was  most  likely  that  where  the  god  had  appeared 
once  he  would  come  again.  The  early  Christians  venerated 
certain  places;  they  visited  the  saints,  and  after  their  deaths 
visited  their  former  habitations.  It  is  only  natural  that  they 
should  consider  the  Holy  Land,  the  country  round  about  and 
including  Jerusalem,  as  especially  sacred  on  account  of  the 
work  of  Jesus  there;  and  particularly  so  the  scenes  of  the 
Passion  of  our  Lord.  The  tombs  of  the  saints  and  martyrs 
were  also  held  in  great  veneration. 

In  addition  to  the  attraction  furnished  by  these  religious 
ideas,  we  must  also  reckon  on  some  other  factors,  probably 
not  so  prominent  in  consciousness,  but  none  the  less  real.  A 
pilgrimage  gratified  the  love  of  adventure,  which  was  pos- 
sessed by  the  people  of  this  time  in  an  exaggerated  degree; 
it  gave  an  opportunity  to  see  foreign  countries;  and  provided 
a  change  from  the  irksome  duties  which  many  did  not  relish. 
The  pilgrim  usually  took  upon  himself  a  temporary  vow  of 
ascetic  observances  which  was  only  binding  so  long  as  he 
was  on  his  pilgrimage.  He  wore  a  distinctive  costume,  con- 
sisting of  a  broad  hat,  a  black  or  gray  cloak,  girt  round  about 
with  a  cincture,  and  he  carried  a  staff  in  his  hand.  The  pil- 
grim brought  from  the  Holy  Land  a  palm  leaf,  and  conse- 
quently was  called  a  palmer.     Different  badges  distinguished 


i52  RELIGIOUS  EPIDEMICS 

pilgrims  of  different  places.  On  account  of  the  meritorious 
endeavors  of  pilgrims  they  had  many  privileges.  They  were 
entitled  to  entertainment  and  assistance  from  all  Christians, 
and  were  not  molested,  for  being  holy  men  their  persons  were 
considered  sacred. 

At  first  pilgrims  were  rare,  but  gradually  the  epidemic 
became  well-nigh  universal.  Caravans  consisting  of  bishops, 
princes,  merchants,  peasants,  and  paupers  journeyed  to 
Jerusalem  to  fulfil  vows  and  perform  acts  of  religious  venera- 
tion in  the  land  where  our  Saviour  trod.  In  history,  pilgrim- 
ages became  famous  as  being  the  indirect  cause  of  the  Cru- 
sades. What  were  the  crusaders,  in  fact,  but  armed  and 
persistent  pilgrims  determined  to  achieve  by  force  what  had 
been  denied  them  by  privilege  ?  We  may  obtain  a  hint  of  the 
extent  of  the  pilgrim  mania  when  we  realize  that  a  single 
band  of  pilgrims  sometimes  numbered  as  many  as  7,000 
persons.  In  1064  a  caravan  of  this  number,  led  by  the 
Archbishop  of  Mainz  and  four  bishops,  was  attacked  by  the 
Bedouins  near  Jerusalem.  The  pilgrims  were  reported  to 
have  lost  3,000  of  their  number  and  were  forced  to  return 
home  without  visiting  the  Jordan.  In  1076  the  Seljouk 
Turks  took  possession  of  Jerusalem  and  began  harassing 
the  pilgrims,  plundering  the  rich  ones,  insulting  the  poor,  and 
exacting  exorbitant  tolls  for  scanty  privileges.  Christians 
were  much  incensed  at  this  treatment  and  also  pained  over 
the  loss  of  commerce.  All  Europe  cried  for  vengeance,  and 
when  Peter  the  Hermit  began  to  preach  the  sacred  duty  of 
rescuing  the  Holy  City  from  the  unholy  Turks  he  found 
ready  ears  and  open  minds.  Thus  we  see  how  the  one  epi- 
demic, pilgrimages,  developed  into  a  greater  and  more  far- 
reaching  one  in  the  Crusades. 

We  usually  think  of  the  Crusades  as  a  series  of  organized 
military  expeditions,  led  by  Christian  princes,  which  pro- 
ceeded in  an  orderly  manner  to  recapture  the  Holy  Sepulchre 


RELIGIOUS  EPIDEMICS  153 

from  the  infidels.  This  is  but  half  the  truth.  The  epidemic 
was  so  intense  that  no  respect  for  law,  custom,  religion,  or 
humanity  could  restrain  some  from  their  maniacal  acts.  A 
hermit  named  Peter,  from  Amiens,  France,  visited  the  Holy 
Land  about  twenty  years  after  its  capture  by  the  Turks. 
The  oppression  of  the  Christians  and  his  personal  injuries 
aroused  him  to  try  to  awaken  the  Christian  world  to  battle. 
He  returned  to  Europe  and  visited  Pope  Urban  II,  one  of 
two  rival  pontiffs  then  contesting  for  the  papacy.  Urban, 
perhaps  as  much  for  political  as  for  religious  reasons,  gave 
the  movement  his  hearty  support,  and  these  two  men  stirred 
Europe  with  their  appeals.  Peter,  robed  only  in  a  coarse 
garment,  carrying  a  heavy  crucifix,  and  riding  upon  an  ass, 
inspired  in  the  common  people  the  passion  which  he  felt,  and 
men,  women,  and  children  crowded  to  his  side. 

Urban's  masterly  stroke  was  made  at  the  council  of  Cler- 
mont in  1094.  In  addition  to  a  host  of  bishops,  clergy,  and 
laity,  which  filled  the  city  to  overflowing,  an  army  encamped 
outside;  and  his  fiery  eloquence,  for  which  he  was  famed, 
evoked  the  most  intense  enthusiasm.  He  appealed  to  a 
variety  of  motives — religious  enthusiasm,  love  for  fighting  and 
adventure,  hope  of  commercial  gain,  revenge  for  insult. 
Listen  to  a  few  extracts  from  this  wonderful  speech.  After 
portraying  the  defilement  of  the  holy  places,  and  the  ravishing 
of  wives  and  daughters  by  pagan  lust,  he  said,  "You  who 
hear  me,  and  who  have  received  the  true  faith,  and  been 
endowed  by  God  with  power,  and  strength,  and  greatness  of 
soul — whose  ancestors  have  been  the  prop  of  Christendom, 
and  whose  kings  have  put  a  barrier  against  the  progress  of 
the  infidel — I  call  upon  you  to  wipe  off  these  impurities  from 
the  face  of  the  earth,  and  lift  your  oppressed  fellow-Christians 
from  the  depths  into  which  they  have  been  trampled.  .  .  . 
Listen  to  nothing  but  the  groans  of  Jerusalem!  .  .  .  And 
remember  that  the  Lord  has  said,  'He  that  will  not  take  up 


i54  RELIGIOUS  EPIDEMICS 

his  cross  and  follow  me  is  not  worthy  of  me.'  You  are  the 
soldiers  of  the  cross;  wear,  then,  on  your  breast  or  on  your 
shoulders  the  blood  red  sign  of  Him  who  died  for  the  salva- 
tion of  your  soul.  .  .  .  Go,  then,  in  expiation  of  your  sins; 
and  go  assured  that  after  this  world  shall  have  passed  away 
imperishable  glory  shall  be  yours  in  the  world  which  is  to 
come."  Sobs  were  heard,  the  enthusiasm  could  no  longer  be 
restrained.  The  people  exclaimed  as  with  one  voice,  "Dieu 
le  veult!  Dieu  le  veult!"  and  men  hurried  to  take  the  cross. 
The  news  of  this  council  spread  to  the  remotest  parts  of 
Europe  in  an  incredibly  short  time— so  quickly,  in  fact,  as  to 
be  considered  supernatural.  But  then  it  was  in  everybody's 
mouth,  nothing  else  was  talked  of.  Men's  minds  were  pre- 
pared for  anything,  any  statement  was  believed,  and  visions 
and  miracles  followed.     Europe  was  beside  itself. 

The  nobles  made  preparation  foi  an  expedition  which  cul- 
minated in  what  is  known  as  the  First  Crusade,  but  the 
common  people  were  too  poor,  too  impatient,  and  too  insane 
to  wait.  In  the  summer  of  1096  an  immense  mob  of  men, 
women,  and  children,  from  the  lower  classes,  gathered,  with 
few  horses,  scanty  provisions,  few  arms,  and  not  many  who 
knew  how  to  use  arms  if  they  had  them.  But  nine  knights 
were  numbered  with  them.  The  ringleader  of  the  first  mob 
was  Walter  the  Penniless.  With  his  vagabonds  he  marched 
through  Germany,  Hungary,  and  Bulgaria,  devastating  the 
country  as  he  went,  robbing  and  murdering.  While  passing 
through  Servia,  they  stormed  Belgrade  and  were  almost 
annihilated,  but  a  starving  remnant  found  its  way  to  Con- 
stantinople. 

Peter  the  Hermit  was  the  leader  of  the  second  mob,  con- 
sisting of  all  sorts  of  inefficient  people,  the  sick,  the  aged, 
and  the  babe  in  arms.  This  senseless  throng  provoked  the 
wrath  of  the  Hungarians  by  storming  the  city  of  Semlin  and 
slaughtering  4,000  of  its  inhabitants.    The  remnant,  which 


RELIGIOUS  EPIDEMICS  155 

escaped  hunger,  disease,  and  the  anger  of  those  protecting 
property  along  the  way,  also  arrived  in  Constantinople,  but 
later  was  almost  completely  destroyed  across  the  Bosphorus. 

A  third  and  a  fourth  crowd  of  like  kind  followed  under  the 
leadership  of  a  German  priest  called  Gottschalk,  another 
priest  named  Volkar,  and  Count  Enricon.  These  employed 
themselves  en  route  in  robbing  and  slaughtering  all  the  Jews 
whom  they  could  find.  It  is  said  that,  notwithstanding  the 
awful  mortality,  10^,000  of  these  different  bands  reached 
Constantinople  and  assembled  under  the  leadership  of  Peter 
and  Walter.  Still  refusing  to  wait  for  reinforcements  of 
trained  military  men,  they  pushed  forward  into  Asia  Minor, 
where  the  ferocious  Turks  made  short  work  of  them.  The 
significance  and  magnitude  of  this  initial  stage  of  the  epidemic 
may  be  gathered  from  the  following  words  of  Gibbon:  "Of 
the  first  Crusaders,  300,000  had  already  perished  before  a 
single  city  was  rescued  from  the  infidels — before  their  braver 
and  more  noble  brethren  had  completed  the  preparations  for 
their  enterprise." 

It  is  not  my  intention  to  give  in  detail  a  history  of  the 
regular  Crusades  which  are  so  well  known  to  every  one,  but 
I  must  mention  one  other  incident.  Between  the  Fifth  and 
Sixth  Crusades,  occurred  one  of  the  most  remarkable  events 
in  history,  one  which  showed  better  than  any  other  the 
epidemical  fanaticism  of  the  period.  I  refer  to  the  so-called 
Children's  Crusade  (1212).  The  sins  of  the  other  crusaders 
were  given  as  a  reason  for  their  failure,  and  several  mad 
priests  went  about  France  and  Germany  calling  on  the  chil- 
dren to  perform  what  the  wickedness  of  their  fathers  had 
prevented  their  doing.  The  children  were  promised  that  the 
sea  would  dry  up,  the  Saracens  be  stricken,  and  the  Cross  and 
Sepulchre  recovered.  Stephen  of  Cloyes,  a  peasant  lad  of 
twelve  years,  became  the  real  preacher  of  the  Crusade,  and, 
telling  of  a  vision  and  his  commission  to  lead  the  Crusade, 


156  RELIGIOUS  EPIDEMICS 

quickly  aroused  the  children  around  Paris.  From  there  the 
contagion  spread  rapidly  over  France  and  Germany.  So  in- 
tense was  the  fanatical  zeal  of  the  children  that  nothing  could 
restrain  them.  They  were  locked  up,  but  escaped;  they 
were  prohibited  by  parents,  but  disobeyed;  persuasions  they 
disregarded,  threats  they  laughed  at,  and  punishment  was  un- 
successful; nothing  had  any  effect  on  the  mania.  Even  if 
forcibly  restrained  the  mania  continued,  and  the  children 
sickened  and  in  some  cases  died.  In  addition  to  the  children, 
decrepit  old  men  in  their  second  childhood  joined  the  ranks. 

Forty  thousand  German  children,  both  boys  and  girls, 
gathered  in  Cologne  to  start  on  this  holy  war.  They  were 
without  money  or  provisions,  but  they  cared  not.  Dividing 
into  two  armies  of  20,000  strong,  one  led  by  Nicholas,  a  boy 
of  ten,  and  the  other  by  an  unnamed  child,  they  started  for 
Italy.  They  were  robbed  of  gifts,  maltreated,  and  overcome 
by  disease  or  weather  conditions,  so  that  but  a  small  propor- 
tion crossed  the  Alps.  Some  went  to  Rome,  where  Innocent 
III  persuaded  them  to  return  home;  a  few  of  these  succeeded 
in  getting  back  to  their  native  land,  in  rags  and  barefoot. 
Laughed  at  by  their  friends  and  unable  to  explain  their 
strange  action,  the  girls  having  lost  their  virtue  and  the  boys 
their  faith,  they  wondered  why  they  had  ever  left  their 
homes.  The  majority,  however,  never  returned,  but  were 
sold  into  slavery  or  into  infamous  resorts. 

The  French  army,  30,000  boys  and  girls,  followed  Stephen, 
notwithstanding  the  edict  of  the  king  and  the  attempted  re- 
straint of  parents.  Arriving  at  Marseilles,  and  being  disap- 
pointed at  the  failure  of  the  sea  to  dry  up,  about  6,000  ac- 
cepted the  kind  offer  of  transportation  from  two  merchants, 
Hugh  Ferreus  and  William  Porcus  (Iron  Hugh  and  Pig  Wil- 
liam). The  children  were  crowded  into  seven  ships  and 
started.  Two  of  the  ships  were  fortunately  lost  at  sea,  but 
the  others  transported  their  cargoes  to  the  slave  markets  of 


RELIGIOUS  EPIDEMICS  157 

Africa.  This  Crusade  exhibits  in  the  most  striking  manner 
the  ignorance,  superstition,  and  fanaticism  of  the  age. 

The  total  loss  to  Europe  by  the  Crusades  is  variously 
estimated  from  2,000,000  to  7,000,000  lives,  the  latter  being 
nearer  correct.  In  addition  to  the  crusades  against  the 
Mohammedans,  so  thoroughly  were  the  people  of  the  time 
possessed  by  this  epidemic  that  crusades  were  also  organized 
against  the  Moors  in  Spain  (1 146-1232),  against  the  heathen 
Slavonians  on  the  Baltic  (1 201-1283),  and  against  the  Albi- 
genses  (1 209-1 242).  During  the  last  crusade  the  women 
crusaders  were  attacked  by  a  strange  mania;  entirely  devoid 
of  clothing,  they  rushed  about  the  streets  speechless,  and  in 
some  cases  fell  into  ecstatic  convulsions.  The  Crusades 
ended  in  1299. 

When  the  Crusade  epidemic  was  abating,  a  new  one  arose. 
In  1260,  bands  of  people  in  Italy  were  seized  with  a  craze  for 
public  scourging,  and  were  called  Flagellants.  A  remorse 
for  sin  and  a  belief  that  blood  shed  in  self-flagellation  had  a 
share  with  the  blood  of  Christ  in  atoning  for  sin  were  the 
bases  for  this  movement.  Both  men  and  women  went  in 
groups  from  town  to  town  and,  stripped  to  the  waist,  or  with 
but  a  loin  cloth  about  them,  they  stood  in  public  places  and 
scourged  one  another,  at  the  same  time  singing  or  exhorting 
the  bystanders.  Being  vigorously  suppressed  in  Italy,  they 
later  appeared  in  Bavaria,  Austria,  Bohemia,  Poland,  and 
France.  The  second  main  outbreak  appeared  in  1349, 
directly  following  the  Black  Death,  which  latter  epidemic  was 
partially  of  a  psychic  nature.  The  terror  inspired  by  this 
great  plague  aided  the  flagellants.  Many  took  vows  to  sub- 
mit to  public  scourging  for  thirty-three  days,  corresponding 
to  the  thirty-three  years  of  Jesus'  life.  They  then  considered 
themselves  cleansed  from  sin  by  this  "baptism  of  blood." 
The  Jews  were  greatly  abhorred  by  these  pious  fanatics  and 
suffered  much  from  their  fury  in  Germany  and  the  Nether- 


158  RELIGIOUS  EPIDEMICS 

lands.  Aided  by  others,  Jews  of  both  sexes  and  all  ages  were 
slaughtered  by  thousands,  death  sometimes  being  inflicted  at 
the  stake.  In  1414  there  was  a  fresh  outbreak,  and,  although 
they  appeared  occasionally  afterward,  history  does  not  men- 
tion them  after  1544.  It  is  affirmed  that  they  numbered 
sometimes  as  many  as  ten  thousand,  and  included  persons 
of  the  highest  rank. 

During  the  decline  of  Flagellation  there  appeared  the  Dan- 
cing epidemic.  There  were  three  distinct  factors  in  this 
epidemic,  viz.,  St.  John's  Dance  beginning  in  1374,  St.  Vitus' 
Dance  beginning  in  1418,  and  Tarantism  which  began  about 
the  middle  of  the  fourteenth  century  and  continued  to  the 
end.  It  was  thereafter  contemporaneous  with  St.  Vitus' 
Dance.  While  Hecker  recognizes  these  dates,  he  says, 
"The  dancing  mania  of  the  year  1374  was,  in  fact,  no  new 
disease,  but  a  phenomenon  well  known  in  the  Middle  Ages, 
of  which  many  wondrous  stories  were  traditionally  current 
among  the  people."  In  1374,  assemblies  of  men  and  women 
appeared  on  the  streets  and  in  the  churches  of  Aix-la-Cha- 
pelle  who  seemed  to  be  demented,  dancing  for  hours  in  a 
wild  delirium.  While  dancing  they  seemed  to  be  insensible 
to  external  impressions,  but  they  saw  visions  of  spirits  whose 
names  they  would  shriek,  of  rivers  of  blood  which  they  would 
try  to  escape  by  leaping  high  in  the  air,  or  of  the  Saviour,  the 
Virgin  Mary,  or  some  saints.  When  completely  exhausted 
they  fell  to  the  ground  suffering  from  tympanites,  which  was 
relieved  by  binding  clothes  about  the  abdomens  of  the  pros- 
trate dancers  or  by  pounding  them  or  by  jumping  on  them. 
The  epidemic  took  different  forms  according  to  the  personal 
equation  or  the  local  conditions,  as,  e.  g.,  in  some  places 
pointed  toes  or  red  colors  irritated  the  dancers.  In  a  few 
months  this  mania  had  spread  over  the  Netherlands,  Belgium, 
and  other  countries.  The  extent  of  the  epidemic  may  be 
computed  when  we  consider  that  in  Metz  alone  1100  dancers 


RELIGIOUS  EPIDEMICS  159 

occupied  the  streets.  Occupations  were  forgotten  and  homes 
were  forsaken  by  the  older  ones,  and  the  children  left  their 
play  to  join  the  mad  dancers.  The  clergy  tried  exorcism, 
and  this  coupled  with  natural  exhaustion  was  quite  ef- 
fective. St.  John  the  Baptist's  Day  was  solemnized  by  all 
sorts  of  strange  and  rude  customs,  heathen  rites,  and  su- 
perstitious ceremonies,  hence  the  name,  "St.  John's  Dance." 
Probably  it  began  with  the  revels  on  St.  John's  Day, 
1374. 

Strasburg  was  visited  by  the  dancing  mania  in  1418.  The 
town  authorities  had  the  afflicted  ones  led  to  St.  Vitus' 
Chapel,  where  priests  ministered  to  them.  At  St.  Vitus' 
altar  persons  bitten  by  mad  dogs  and  those  with  small-pox 
were  cured,  and  it  was  thought  that  the  dancers  would  be 
healed  here  also.  Some  were,  and  the  disease  was  therefore 
called  "St.  Vitus'  Dance."  The  afflicted  ones  would  some- 
times dance  as  long  as  a  month,  unmindful  of  lacerated  feet. 
If  they  sat  to  take  nourishment,  or  tried  to  sleep,  a  hop- 
ping movement  of  the  body  continued.  Sometimes  per- 
sons would  dash  out  their  brains  against  a  wall  or  building, 
or  rush  headlong  into  rivers  and  drown.  At  the  begin- 
ning of  the  sixteenth  century  physicians  began  to  treat  the 
affection.  Exhaustion  cured  many,  music  assisted,  but 
some  never  regained  health.  The  disease  was  still  in  ex- 
istence in  the  seventeenth  century,  but  not  in  an  epidemic 
form. 

Tarantism  was  supposed  to  have  been  caused  by  the  bite 
of  a  tarantula,  and  appeared  first  in  Italy.  In  addition  to  the 
symptoms  of  spider  bites,  some  would  dance  until  insensible 
or  exhausted,  others  would  weep,  become  melancholic,  and 
perhaps  die.  Fear  of  spider  bites  affected  nervous  people, 
and  at  the  close  of  the  fifteenth  century  it  had  spread  beyond 
the  borders  of  its  original  starting-place.  When  affected, 
death  was  expected,  and  the  victims  pined  away,  becoming 


160  RELIGIOUS  EPIDEMICS 

weak-sighted  and  hard  of  hearing.  Music  of  a  certain  kind, 
called  tarantella,  afforded  the  only  relief,  and  this  must  be 
played  on  the  flute  or  the  zither.  At  the  sound  of  the  music 
the  victims  danced,  and  by  this  means  it  was  thought  that  the 
poison  was  distributed  or  excreted.  The  symptoms  varied. 
Victims  were  excited  by  metallic  lustre,  and  were  quieted  or 
enraged  by  certain  colors,  not  always  the  same.  So  potent 
was  the  poison  supposed  to  be  that  some  had  to  dance  once 
annually  for  a  quarter  of  a  century  to  be  cured  for  the  remain- 
der of  each  year.  It  continued  for  nearly  four  hundred  years, 
but  gradually  declined  until  it  was  confined  to  individual 
cases  with  an  hysterical  or  melancholic  diathesis.  Both  sexes 
and  all  ages  suffered,  and  it  is  interesting  to  note  that  the 
poison  of  mental  contagion,  not  that  of  the  tarantula,  was 
alone  the  source  of  danger. 

The  witchcraft  epidemic  has  already  been  described,  and, 
as  will  be  remembered,  dated  from  the  Bull  of  Innocent  VII, 
in  1484,  and  lasted  down  to  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  The  last  execution  for  witchcraft  directly  con- 
nected with  this  epidemic  took  place  in  1749.  In  151 5,  500 
persons  were  executed  at  Geneva  for  witchcraft.  In  Lor- 
raine, the  learned  inquisitor,  Remigius,  boasted  that  he  put  to 
death  900  witches  in  fifteen  years.  As  many  more  were 
banished  from  that  country,  so  that  whole  towns  were  in 
danger  of  becoming  depopulated.  In  1524,  1,000  persons 
were  put  to  death  in  one  year  at  Como,  in  Italy,  and  about 
100  every  year  after  for  several  years.  Nuremberg,  Geneva, 
Paris,  Toulouse,  Lyons,  and  many  other  cities  made  an 
average  sacrifice  of  200  witches  every  year;  Cologne  burned 
300,  and  the  district  of  Bamberg  400  witches  and  sorcerers 
annually.  In  Scotland,  for  forty  years,  from  1 560-1600,  the 
annual  average  for  the  execution  of  witches  was  200,  i.  e.,  a 
total  of  8,000,  or  four  per  week  for  nearly  half  a  century  in  a 
population  less  than  that  of  Massachusetts  to-day.    It  is 


RELIGIOUS  EPIDEMICS 


161 


conservatively  estimated  that  30,000  persons  in  England, 
75,000  in  France,  and  100,000  in  Germany  were  put  to  death 
on  the  charge  of  witchcraft,  and  no  less  than  a  total  of  300,000 
lost  their  lives  in  this  epidemic.  When  we  consider  that  such 
men  as  Blackstone,  the  authority  on  law;  John  Wesley,  the 
founder  of  Methodism;  Ralph  Cudworth,  the  philosopher 
and  theologian;  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  the  eminent  physi- 
cian, and  Sir  Matthew  Hale,  the  celebrated  jurist,  believed 
in  witchcraft  and  condemned  witches,  we  cannot  blame 
the  common  people  for  their  credulity.  This  ended  the 
great  epidemics  which  had  lasted  for  fifteen  hundred 
years. 

But  why  did  they,  or  why  should  they,  end  at  this  time  ? 
Two  factors  enter  into  the  explanation.  Up  to  this  time 
religion  was  the  chief  concern  of  the  people;  after  this,  com- 
merce seized  the  mind  of  the  world,  and  the  epidemics  since 
then,  which  have  been  many  and  continuous,  have  been  of  a 
financial  character.  The  second  factor  is  found  in  religious 
enthusiasm  and  excitement  seeking  an  outlet  in  another  form. 
This  was  the  revival.  The  Great  Awakening  in  America, 
and  the  Wesleyan  Revival  in  England,  began  during  the  first 
half  of  the  eighteenth  century,  and  a  continuous  series  can  be 
traced  since  that  time. 

Appended  is  a  chronological  table  to  assist  in  tracing  the 
epidemics : 


Monasticism 
Pilgrimages 
Crusades 
Flagellants  . 
Dancing 
Witchcraft   . 


250-1209 
1 000- 1 09 5 
1096-1299 
1 260-1454 
1374-1650 
1484-1749 


These  epidemics  necessarily  overlap,  for  a  few  hold  on  to 
the  old  fads  until  the  new  ones  have  a  firm  hold  on  the 


162  RELIGIOUS  EPIDEMICS 

people.  This  is  more  noticeable  with  Monasticism  than 
with  any  of  the  others,  for  it  is  of  such  a  character  that  it 
easily  combines  with  other  forms.1 

1  For  the  material  used  in  this  chapter,  I  am  indebted  to  C.  Mackay, 
Extraordinary  Popular  Delusions;  B.  Sidis,  The  Psychology  oj  Sugges- 
tion, Pt.  II;  J.  F.  C.  Hecker,  The  Epidemics  oj  the  Middle  Ages;  as  well 
as  various  histories  and  encyclopedic  articles. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

CONTAGIOUS   PHENOMENA 

"For  all  the  rest, 
They'll  take  a  suggestion  as  a  cat  laps  milk." — Shakespeare. 

In  the  history  of  religious  experience  we  meet  with  many 
instances  of  contagious  phenomena  which  are  not  sufficiently 
widespread  to  be  called  epidemics,  and  may  be  confined  to  a 
few  individuals  for  a  short  time,  or  agitate  a  mob  for  months. 
Of  all  infatuations,  that  of  religion  is  most  fertile  in  abnormal 
conditions  of  both  mind  and  body,  and  both  spread  with  the 
greatest  facility  by  imitation.  Of  course,  this  contagious 
tendency  is  not  confined  to  religious  phenomena,  but  finds 
an  abundant  opportunity  for  expression  in  religion,  especially 
during  emotional  excitement. 

In  the  recent  study  of  the  psychology  of  the  crowd  certain 
observations  have  been  made  and  certain  generalizations 
have  been  framed  into  laws.  It  may  be  well  to  look  at  some 
of  these.  The  law  of  origin  is  thus  stated:  "Impulsive 
social  action  originates  among  people  who  have  least  inhibi- 
tory control."  Others  may  follow,  but  it  begins  with  the  un- 
stable. In  1787,  at  a  cotton  factory  at  Hodden  Bridge,  Lan- 
cashire, a  girl  was  thrown  into  convulsions  by  a  mouse  being 
put  into  her  bosom.  The  next  day  three  more  were  seized, 
and  the  day  following  six  more.  The  idea  prevailed  that  a 
new  disease  had  been  conveyed  in  the  cotton,  and  about 
thirty  girls  were  affected,  all  of  whom  were  cured  by  elec- 
tricity.1   The  cure  was  probably  as  suggestive  as  the  disease. 

1  J.  F.  C.  Hecker,  The  Epidemics  oj  the  Middle  Ages,  p.  140. 

163 


164  CONTAGIOUS  PHENOMENA 

Compare  with  this  Finney's  experience  in  a  cotton  factory  at 
New  York  Mills,  N.  Y.,  in  1825.  "The  next  morning  after 
breakfast  I  went  into  the  factory,  to  look  through  it.  As  I  went 
through,  I  observed  there  was  a  good  deal  of  agitation  among 
those  who  were  busy  at  their  looms,  and  their  mules,  and  other 
implements  of  work.  On  passing  through  one  of  the  apart- 
ments, where  a  great  number  of  young  women  were  attending 
to  their  weaving,  I  observed  a  couple  of  them  eyeing  me,  and 
speaking  very  earnestly  to  each  other;  and  I  could  see  that 
they  were  a  good  deal  agitated,  although  they  both  laughed. 
I  went  slowly  toward  them.  They  saw  me  coming,  and  were 
evidently  much  excited.  One  of  them  was  trying  to  mend  a 
broken  thread,  and  I  observed  that  her  hands  trembled  so 
that  she  could  not  mend  it.  I  approached  slowly,  looking  on 
each  side,  at  the  machinery,  as  I  passed;  but  observed  that 
this  girl  grew  more  and  more  agitated,  and  could  not  proceed 
with  her  work.  When  I  came  within  eight  or  ten  feet  of  her, 
I  looked  solemnly  at  her.  She  observed  it,  and  was  quite 
overcome,  and  sunk  down,  and  burst  into  tears.  The  im- 
pression caught  almost  like  powder,  and  in  a  few  moments 
nearly  all  the  room  were  in  tears.  This  feeling  spread 
through  the  factory.  .  .  .  The  revival  went  through  the 
mill  with  astonishing  power,  and  in  the  course  of  a  few  days 
nearly  all  in  the  mill  were  hopefully  converted."  *  It  will 
readily  be  seen  that  both  the  mouse  and  the  evangelist  owed 
the  beginning  of  their  power  to  the  nervous  condition  of  the 
first  person  affected. 

The  second  law,  the  law  of  extension,  is  that  "Impulsive 
social  action  tends,  through  imitation,  to  extend  and  intensify 
in  geometrical  progression."  In  a  Methodist  chapel  at  Red- 
ruth, a  man  during  divine  service  cried  out  with  a  loud  voice, 
"What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved?"  and  manifested  great  solici- 
tude for  his  salvation.    Others  followed  his  example  and  all 

1  C.  G.  Finney,  Autobiography,  p.  183  /. 


CONTAGIOUS  PHENOMENA  165 

were  afflicted  with  great  bodily  pain.  This  was  soon  publicly 
known,  and  many  who  came  to  see  fell  into  the  same  state. 
The  disorder  spread  over  the  towns  of  Camborne,  Helston, 
Truro,  Penryn,  Falmouth,  and  other  neighboring  towns.  It 
was  confined  to  Methodist  chapels,  and  it  seized  only  people 
of  the  lowest  education.  Great  anguish  was  manifested, 
convulsions  appeared,  and  the  victims  cried  out  like  those 
possessed.  Four  thousand  were  affected  in  a  short  time. 
Exhaustion  finally  came  to  their  relief,  but  before  this  ap- 
peared there  was  no  way  to  quiet  them.  Neither  age  nor  sex 
was  spared  by  the  contagion.1  Many  cases  of  a  similar  nature 
will  be  noticed  of  Revivals. 

The  law  of  control  has  been  given  in  these  words:  "Sym- 
pathetic popular  movements  tend  to  spread  themselves  with 
abandon,  and  are  held  in  check  only  if  there  are  a  consider- 
able number  of  individuals  scattered  through  the  population 
who  are  trained  in  the  habit  of  control,  who  are  accustomed 
to  subordinate  feeling  to  rational  considerations  and  who  act 
as  bulwarks  against  the  advance  of  the  overwhelming  tide  of 
imitation  and  emotion."2  The  epidemic  nature  of  the  sug- 
gestion among  the  children  at  the  time  of  the  Children's 
Crusade,  and  the  attempted  inhibition  on  the  part  of  the 
King,  the  Pope,  and  the  parents,  give  us  an  example  of  this 
third  law. 

Gustave  Le  Bon's  psychological  analysis  of  the  crowd3 
was  and  is  a  most  valuable  addition  to  science.  In  his  study 
he  discovered  principles  of  crowd  behavior  which,  we  may 
readily  see,  apply  to  the  religious  crowd.  Let  me  epitomize 
some  of  his  conclusions  in  an  endeavor  to  show  how  rigidly 
normal  we  are  in  our  most  abnormal  religious  experiences, 

1  J.  F.  C.  Hecker,  The  Epidemics  of  the  Middle  Ages,  p.  142. 
a  F.  M.  Davenport,  Primitive  Traits  in  Religious  Revivals,  pp.  3-7, 
gives  all  three  of  these  rules. 
3  G.  Le  Bon,  The  Crowd. 


1 66  CONTAGIOUS  PHENOMENA 

which  some  people  designate  as  supernormal.  A  crowd,  while 
little  adapted  to  reasoning,  is  quick  to  act.  It  is  impulsive, 
mobile,  and  irritable.  The  sentiments  of  a  crowd  are  simple 
and  exaggerated;  crowds  may  be  criminal,  but  they  are  also 
virtuous  and  heroic,  and  excesses  of  one  kind  or  another  are 
usually  present.  A  crowd  has  its  own  way  of  reasoning — 
it  jumps  at  conclusions,  yet  this  is  mostly  in  superficial  mat- 
ters, in  greater  things  it  is  conservative.  Thus  it  is  that 
civilizations  have  been  created  and  directed  by  a  small  in- 
tellectual aristocracy,  and  never  by  crowds.  The  crowd  is 
destructive,  not  creative.  The  intellectual  aptitude  of  the 
individual  is  merged  in  the  crowd,  and  the  subconscious  ele- 
ments, which  are  largely  primitive,  prevail.  By  forming  a 
part  of  an  organized  crowd  the  individual  descends  several 
rungs  in  the  ladder  of  civilization. 

The  primitive  character  of  the  crowd  is  shown  by  its  credu- 
lity, i.  e.,  its  suggestibleness ;  this  is  the  reason  it  is  so  easily 
moved.  The  same  trait  is  seen  in  children  who  accept  al- 
most any  suggestion  without  questioning.  "Magistrates  are 
in  the  habit  of  repeating  that  children  do  not  lie.  Did  they 
possess  a  psychological  culture  a  little  less  rudimentary  than 
is  the  case  they  would  know  that,  on  the  contrary,  children 
invariably  lie;  the  lie  is  doubtless  innocent,  but  it  is  none  the 
less  a  lie."  This  fact  has  already  been  brought  out  in 
connection  with  the  witchcraft  evidence,  but  it  is  also  true  of 
crowds  as  of  children.  In  connection  with  suggestibleness 
there  is  noticed  the  vivid  imagination  of  the  crowd,  by  which 
the  unreal  easily  becomes  real.  The  speech  of  Antony  in 
Shakespeare's  Julius  Ccesar  is  a  skilful  portrayal  of  the  effect 
of  the  imagination  and  of  suggestion  on  the  crowd.  In  its 
effect  the  impulsive  and  unreasonable  attitude  of  the  crowd 
is  also  shown.  The  crowd  meets  Cinna,  and  it  matters  not  to 
them  that  it  is  Cinna  the  poet  rather  than  Cinna  the  conspira- 
tor, his  name  is  Cinna,  and  they  will  kill  him  just  the  same. 


CONTAGIOUS  PHENOMENA  167 

The  leader  of  a  crowd  is  usually  a  despot,  for  the  crowd 
respects  force,  but  interprets  kindness  as  weakness.  He 
never  sways  the  crowd  by  reason,  the  crowd  is  not  reasonable; 
but  the  modus  operandi  is  to  affirm  stoutly  even  to  exaggera- 
tion, to  repeat  the  affirmation  adroitly,  and  to  trust  to  the 
emotional  contagion,  which  is  part  of  the  crowd  mind.  The 
crowd  is  dictatorial  and  intolerant,  but  after  placing  itself, 
which  it  instinctively  does,  under  a  leader,  who  is  usually  a 
strong-willed  man  who  knows  how  to  impose  himself  upon 
the  members,  it  follows  him  blindly. 

The  more  primitive  the  people,  the  more  easily  is  the  crowd 
spirit  inculcated;  but  regardless  of  the  personnel,  under 
proper  conditions  the  mob  consciousness  may  appear  and 
the  highly  cultivated  gentleman  become  the  savage  in  com- 
pany with  his  suddenly  degenerated  brethren.  "Once  the 
mob  self  is  .  .  .  brought  to  the  surface,  it  possesses  a 
strong,  attractive  power  and  a  great  capacity  of  assimila- 
tion. It  attracts  fresh  individuals,  breaks  down  their  per- 
sonal life,  and  quickly  assimilates  them;  it  effects  in  them  a 
disaggregation  of  consciousness  and  assimilates  the  sub- 
waking selves.  The  assimilated  individual  .  .  .  enters  fully 
into  the  spirit  of  the  mob."1 

So  great  is  the  collective  power  of  suggestion  that  a  crowd 
sees  things  which  never  exist,  and  hears  sounds  which  are 
purely  imaginary.  Not  only  does  this  apply  to  one  depraved 
member,  but  it  may  be  experienced  by  every  member  in  the 
crowd.  Those  who  read  and  observe  cannot  avoid  noticing 
this  phenomenon  in  all  avenues  of  life.  The  incident  is  told 
of  a  humorist  who  planted  himself  in  an  attitude  of  astonish- 
ment, with  his  eyes  riveted  on  the  well-known  bronze  lion 
that  graces  the  front  of  Northumberland  House  in  the 
Strand.  Having  attracted  the  attention  of  those  who  were 
passing,  he  muttered,  "By  heaven  it  wags!  it  wags  again!" 

1  B.  Sidis,  The  Psychology  of  Suggestion,  p.  304. 


168  CONTAGIOUS  PHENOMENA 

and  in  a  few  minutes  he  contrived  to  blockade  the  whole 
street  with  an  immense  crowd,  some  conceiving  that  they 
had  absolutely  seen  the  lion  of  Percy  wag  its  tail,  others  ex- 
pecting to  witness  the  same  phenomenon.  Whether  this  is 
true  or  not,  it  is  well  within  the  bounds  of  possibility,  and  if 
it  must  be  classed  under  the  head  of  fiction,  it  was  invented 
by  some  person  who  understood  the  psychology  of  the  crowd. 

In  the  heat  and  excitement  of  battle  a  vision  experienced 
by  one  person  is  suggested  to  his  comrades,  and  whole  armies 
may  see  the  same.  The  ancients  supposed  that  they  saw 
their  deities,  Castor  and  Pollux,  fighting  in  the  van  for  their 
encouragement;  the  heathen  Scandinavians  beheld  the 
Choosers  of  the  Slain,  and  Christians  were  no  less  easily 
led  to  recognize  the  warlike  St.  George  and  St.  James  in 
the  front  of  the  strife,  showing  them  the  way  to  conquest. 
It  will  be  remembered  that  St.  George  was  seen  on  the  walls 
of  Jerusalem  by  the  army  of  the  Crusaders,  who  did  not 
doubt  the  reality  of  the  suggested  vision.  There  have  been 
many  religious  experiences  which  may  be  explained  by 
applying  these  principles  of  collective  psychology,  and  while 
we  cannot  enumerate  all  of  them,  we  can,  at  least,  present 
examples  which  might  be  extended  indefinitely,  and  maybe 
applied  by  others  to  incidents  that  may  come  under  their 
observation  or  be  presented  by  history. 

In  1727,  there  died  in  Paris  a  certain  Francis,  the  Deacon 
Paris,  connected  with  the  Jansenists.  He  was  thought  to  be 
very  holy  on  account  of  his  extravagant  asceticism.  His 
tomb  was  in  the  cemetery  of  St.  Medard,  and  three  years  after 
his  death  it  was  rumored  that  miracles  had  taken  place  there. 
Immediately  many  persons  crowded  to  the  cemetery,  and 
fanatical  prayers,  prophesying,  and  preaching  were  heard. 
The  sick  were  brought  to  be  cured,  and  many  excited  persons 
found  their  way  there.  Presently,  violent  physical  manifesta- 
tions were  experienced  by  some  patients,  and  before  long  the 


CONTAGIOUS  PHENOMENA  169 

contagion  of  the  nervous  disorder  was  so  great  that  about 
eight  hundred  people  were  seized  by  it.  These  actions  have 
been  variously  described:  "Patients  were  seized  with  con- 
vulsions and  tetanic  spasms,  rolled  upon  the  ground  like 
persons  possessed,  were  thrown  into  violent  contortions  of 
their  heads  and  limbs,  and  suffered  the  greatest  oppression, 
accompanied  by  quickness  and  irregularity  of  pulse."  "  They 
threw  themselves  into  the  most  violent  contortions  of  body, 
rolled  about  on  the  ground,  imitated  birds,  beasts,  and  fishes, 
and  at  last  when  they  had  completely  spent  themselves  went 
off  in  a  swoon."  It  was  on  account  of  these  strange  actions 
that  they  were  called  "Convulsionaries."  All  sorts  of  con- 
tortions were  experienced,  and  many  disorders  of  the  nerves 
developed.  Sometimes  they  were  in  such  pain  that  they 
needed  the  assistance  of  their  brethren  in  the  faith,  hence 
they  were  called  by  some  "  Secourists."  This  degenerated 
at  last  into  insanity.  In  1733,  by  order  of  King  Louis  XV  the 
cemetery  was  closed  and  the  fanatics  were  imprisoned;  but 
this  tended  to  increase  rather  than  to  decrease  the  numbers. 
They  continued  without  interruption  until  1790,  and  existed 
as  late  as  1828. 

The  Convulsionaries  were  a  type.  We  find  scattered 
through  history  certain  sects  that  indulged  in  these  nervous 
twitchings  and  contortions.  The  Camisards  before  them, 
and  the  French  Prophets  later,  were  known  to  favor  like 
actions.  The  Jumpers  of  England  founded  in  1760,  the 
Jumpers  of  Russia  founded  in  1873,  and  other  sects  of 
Jumpers,  Shakers,  and  Jerkers,  received  their  respective 
names  on  account  of  these  contagious  nervous  phenomena. 

In  1893, 1  attended  a  meeting  of  a  sect  called  "McDonald- 
ites,"  on  Prince  Edward  Island,  Canada.  The  process  of 
conversion  extended  over  some  weeks  or  months,  and  there 
were  two  young  people  then  "going  through  the  works." 
The  process  was  very  similar  to  that  described  as  "the  jerks" 


170  CONTAGIOUS  PHENOMENA 

in  the  Kentucky  revival.  As  soon  as  the  pastor  commenced 
to  preach  the  candidates  began  to  twitch  and  jerk.  One  of 
the  candidates,  a  young  woman,  was  particularly  susceptible. 
She  twitched  and  moved  her  head  so  violently  that  her  hat 
was  thrown  off,  her  hair  pins  scattered,  her  long  hair  waved, 
and  finally  snapped.  This  was  continued  for  over  an  hour, 
reminding  one  of  a  severe  attack  of  chorea.  The  interesting 
part,  in  connection  with  our  subject,  was  the  difficulty  ex- 
perienced, after  watching  these  people  twitch,  in  controlling 
myself.  It  seemed  that  it  would  have  required  but  little 
longer  to  put  me  in  the  candidate  class.  The  very  fear  of 
the  on-looker  that  he  may  be  similarly  attacked  acts  as  a 
powerful  suggestion,  and  the  more  suggestible  soon  realize 
their  fears.  In  accordance  with  the  law  of  suggestion,  every 
new  case  adds  power  to  the  new  cause,  and  soon  conditions 
are  ripe  for  the  rapid  spread  of  the  psychic  disorder  over  a 
whole  community. 

The  Jews  have  had  a  number  of  "Messiahs."  When 
Sabbathai  Zevi,  in  1666,  declared  himself  the  Messiah,  men, 
women,  and  children  flocked  to  him,  became  hysterical,  and 
then  contagious  nervous  disorders  were  soon  present  in  great 
force.  Since  then  both  Jews  and  Christians  have  experienced 
like  phenomena  in  espousing  the  cause  of  numerous  "Mes- 
siahs." In  our  own  times  some  of  the  best  examples  of  con- 
tagious phenomena  may  be  seen  in  connection  with  the  few 
remaining  camp  meetings.  At  Old  Orchard  Beach  a  crowd 
of  several  thousands  is  made  to  give  up  all  the  valuables  and 
money  carried  into  the  amphitheatre,  and  some  of  those  who 
contribute  most  have  simply  gone  in  to  "see  how  it  was  done." 
They  come  out  with  more  experience  and  less  money,  but 
still  unable  to  comprehend  the  rationale  of  the  process. 

Probably  the  best  example  we  have  of  contagious  phenom- 
ena under  the  name  of  the  Christian  religion  is  that  found 
among  the  ignorant  and  primitive  negroes  of  the  southern 


CONTAGIOUS  PHENOMENA  171 

United  States.  Living  to-day  but  a  few  generations  from 
savagery,  we  cannot  expect  a  fully  developed  religious  con- 
sciousness. The  negroes,  being  imported  into  America  as 
full-grown  men  and  women,  would  naturally  bring  some  of 
their  religious  beliefs  with  them.  Although  the  priests  were 
left  behind,  the  language  changed,  and  the  rites  prohibited, 
some  vestiges  of  the  religion  yet  remain.1  Savagery  and 
civilization  dwell  in  the  same  spirit,  Voodooism  and  Chris- 
tianity are  mixed  in  strange  confusion.  The  negro  saw 
spirits  in  everything  while  in  Africa,  and  if  he  kept  on  good 
terms  with  spirits  his  duty  was  done.  He  felt  no  obligation 
to  his  fellowmen,  and  religion  had  nothing  to  do  with  moral 
conduct.  There  was  therefore  no  inconsistency  between 
piety  toward  his  gods,  and  crime  against  his  companions. 
Thus  we  find  the  negro  to-day  the  most  religious  and  the 
most  immoral  of  men,  the  present  paradoxical  condition  being 
a  survival  of  his  former  beliefs. 

In  addition  to  these  superstitious  and  immoral  traits  in  his 
character,  the  negro  combines  dense  ignorance  and  weak  will 
with  vivid  imagination  and  volatile  emotion.  This  causes 
him  to  be  especially  easily  moved  in  a  crowd,  and  he  is  par- 
ticularly susceptible  to  psychic  contagion.  The  negro 
preacher  is  the  "leader"  of  the  crowd,  and  owes  his  position 
to  his  peculiar  power  of  swaying  the  congregation.  He  leads 
them  in  religion  as  he  leads  them  in  politics  and  in  all  other 
social  affairs.  "The  colored  minister  has  been  the  social 
radical,  proclaiming  the  equality  of  races  according  to  the 
Scriptures,  always  the  emotional  orator  swaying  his  audiences 
at  will,  expounding  the  doctrines  of  depravity  and  damnation, 
and  too  often  illustrating  them  in  his  daily  practice,  appealing 
to  the  instinctive  emotions  of  fear  and  hate  as  well  as  love,  the 
mourner,  the  shouter,  the  visioner,  rioting  in  word  pictures, 

1  J.  A.  Tillinghart,  "The  Negro  in  Africa  and  America,"  Publication 
0}  the  American  Economic  Association,  III,  No.  2,  p.  151. 


i72  CONTAGIOUS  PHENOMENA 

his  preaching  an  incoherent,  irrational,  rhythmic  ecstasy,  his 
thinking  following  absolutely  the  psychological  law  of  the 
blending  of  mental  images.  Here  is  a  primitive  man  with 
primitive  traits  in  a  modern  environment."  x  As  the  natural 
descendant  of  the  African  medicine-man,  "he  early  appeared 
on  the  plantation  and  found  his  function  as  the  healer  of  the 
sick,  the  interpreter  of  the  Unknown,  the  comforter  of  the 
sorrowing,  the  supernatural  avenger  of  wrong,  and  the  one 
who  rudely  but  picturesquely  expressed  the  longing,  disap- 
pointment, and  resentment  of  a  stolen  and  oppressed  people." 2 
With  such  a  leader  and  such  a  crowd  the  effect  may  well  be 
imagined. 

The  church  is  the  social  centre  and  every  negro  belongs  to 
it.  Meetings  are  held  two  or  three  times  a  week  besides  Sun- 
day, and  often  last  all  night.  So  exhausting  are  they  that  a 
"revival "  season  is  dreaded  by  the  planters,  as  it  impairs  work 
in  the  field.3  The  meetings  are  conducted  in  such  a  way  as 
to  excite  the  greatest  emotion  and  to  be  favorable  to  the  highest 
degree  of  suggestion.  Monotonous  hymns  are  chanted  through 
perhaps  twenty  verses,  some  of  the  sisters,  especially,  sway 
rhythmically  through  the  sermon,  while  others  pray,  and  the 
brethren  shout.  The  sermon  consists  of  distorted  imagery, 
exciting  for  the  moment,  but  more  hurtful  than  helpful  to 
ignorant  minds,  assisting  greatly  as  it  does  in  increasing  the 
excitement.  When  the  emotion  becomes  violent,  muscular 
contractions  and  other  physical  manifestations  are  to  be  seen. 
Then,  at  some  of  the  protracted  meetings,  foaming  at  the 
mouth,  uncontrolled  muscular  contractions,  collapse,  cata- 
lepsy, convulsions,  and  dancing  are  not  infrequent.  The 
collapse,  called  "falling  out,"  is  considered  a  clear  manifesta- 
tion of  the  working  of  the  Divine  Spirit,  and  must  be  ex- 

1  F.  M.  Davenport,  Primitive  Traits  in  Religious  Revivals,  p.  50. 

3  W.  E.  B.  Dubois,  The  Souls  0}  Black  Folks,  p.  196. 

3  C.  Deming,  By-Ways  oj  Nature  and  Lije,  Negro  Rites  and  Worship. 


CONTAGIOUS  PHENOMENA  173 

perienced  by  all  who  are  called  to  preach.  The  rhythmic 
movement  and  sound,  the  encouraging  shout,  and  "falling 
out"  are  characteristic  of  the  negro  religion. 

In  large  assemblies  one  shout  or  one  person  swaying  will  be 
sufficient  to  set  the  whole  meeting  in  motion.  Inquiring  of  a 
teacher  in  a  negro  school  for  higher  education  in  the  South 
if  she  had  ever  witnessed  any  of  these  characteristic  negro 
phenomena,  she  replied  that  in  her  experience  only  once  had 
she  seen  anything  of  that  nature,  for  the  students  were  very 
particular  not  to  exhibit  these  peculiarities,  as  they  con- 
sidered them  to  be  undignified  and  unbefitting  students  in 
an  institution  for  higher  education.  The  exceptional  occa- 
sion was  when  the  students  were  gathered  together,  several 
hundred  of  them,  and  sang  one  of  the  negro  songs  in  as 
proper  a  manner  as  any  white  students  could  do.  In  some 
way  an  old  negro  "auntie"  had  found  her  way  into  the  build- 
ing, and  at  the  end  of  the  first  verse  she  shouted,  swayed,  and 
started  into  the  second  verse  before  the  organ  could  begin. 
Like  wildfire  the  students  followed  the  "auntie,"  as  if  all  the 
native,  pent-up  emotion  were  but  tinder  to  the  spark  so  un- 
consciously set  by  this  illiterate  old  woman.  It  was  suffi- 
ciently contagious  to  carry  them  excitedly  through  the  song, 
notwithstanding  the  former  control  of  years. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

REVIVALS 

"There  is  some  soul  of  goodness  in  things  evil, 

Would  men  observingly  distil  it  out."— Shakespeare. 

In  our  study  of  revivals  our  attention  will  inevitably  be 
called  to  certain  extravagances.  It  may  be  well  to  say  at  the 
beginning  and  to  keep  in  mind  throughout,  that  the  value  of 
revivals  is  recognized.  Revivals  have  been  an  incompre- 
hensible confusion  of  good  and  evil,  and  there  is  no  desire  to 
minimize  the  former.  In  the  chapter  on  Conversion  an  at- 
tempt will  be  made  to  analyze  the  beneficent  effects  of  revival 
and  other  forms  of  conversion,  but  here  let  us  look  at  the 
movements  of  the  past  and  point  out  the  psychological  ele- 
ments, in  order  that  we  may,  if  possible,  determine  their 
proper  value. 

Not  a  few  of  the  evil  practices  and  results  have  already 
been  forced  into  desuetude  by  the  enlightenment  of  our  age, 
but  so  many  object  to  any  criticism  of  revivals  and  revival 
methods  that  many  undesirable  features  are  still  to  be  found. 
The  following  quotation  very  fairly  presents  the  attitude  of 
many.  "An  effeminate  preacher  of  the  academic  sort  in 
the  present  day,  sitting  down  to  analyze  such  a  work  [Ken- 
tucky Revival  of  1800]  is  as  incapable  of  comprehending  it  as 
the  dainty  dandies  of  the  days  of  Rehoboam  would  have  been 
unable  to  understand  the  miraculous  achievements  of  Gideon's 
three  hundred."  *  A  most  charming  comparison,  which  means, 
of  course,  "Hands  off."     That  is  the  trouble— the  very  ex- 

1  W.  A.  Chandler,  Great  Revivals  and  the  Great  Republic,  p.  181. 

174 


REVIVALS  175 

travagances,  the  very  defects,  the  very  evils,  the  very  crimes, 
are  precisely  what  the  revivalist  clings  to  tenaciously  as  the 
special  seal  of  God's  approval  on  his  work.  The  fruits  of 
the  spirit  in  a  revival  service  are  not  love,  joy,  peace,  etc.,  but 
shouting,  weeping,  fainting,  hysteria,  and  epilepsy.  Jesus 
Christ,  who  moved  quietly  among  men,  who  talked  like  a 
rational  human  being  and  gained  individual  men's  consent 
to  the  good  life  in  a  sane  manner,  who  eschewed  the  crowd 
and  never  had  an  experience,  of  which  we  have  any  record, 
which  had  the  least  semblance  to  a  revival,  would  to-day  be 
classed  by  some  revivalists  as  a  rationalist,  or  as  one  lacking 
in  spirituality.  Pentecost  is  the  only  New  Testament  inci- 
dent which  coincides  with  the  revival,  yet  we  do  not  read  of 
any  effort  of  Peter  or  of  the  other  apostles  to  duplicate  it. 
Paul's  is  the  only  typical  explosive  conversion  of  which  we 
read  there,  yet  we  do  not  find  him  trying  to  set  it  as  the  type 
for  all  men  to  follow. 

Of  course,  there  are  revivals  and  revivals.  As  the  word 
has  been  used,  it  refers  to  the  widespread  religious  move- 
ments of  the  last  century  and  a  half.  We  have  had,  we  have 
now,  and  shall  have  probably  for  a  while  longer,  miniature 
copies  of  these  movements  in  different  localities.  Some  who 
have  charge  of  them  endeavor  to  imitate  especially  the  ex- 
travagances, while  others  try  to  procure  the  good  results 
without  the  concomitant  evil.  The  ideal  is  to  have  all  who 
endeavor  to  advance  the  Kingdom  of  God  by  means  of 
special,  large  gatherings,  eliminate  the  injurious  factors  and 
cling  only  to  the  good  and  profitable.  Let  us  examine  the 
revivals. 

The  revival  movement  began  with  "The  Great  Awakening" 
in  1734.  No  one  would  claim  that  this  was  the  first  revival. 
Most  of  the  great  religious  movements,  might  be  classed  as 
revivals.  The  Reformation  has  been  so  classed,  but  the 
Reformation  was  a  religio-political  revolution  rather  than  a 


176  REVIVALS 

revival.  In  the  seventeenth  century  we  have  some  fore- 
runners. In  1625  a  revival  took  place  in  the  North  of  Ire- 
land which  was  not  unlike  some  later  ones.  Of  this  it  has 
been  said,  "The  people,  awakened  and  inquiring,  many  of 
them  both  desponding  and  alarmed,  both  desired  guidance 
and  instruction.  The  judicious  exhibition  of  evangelical 
doctrines  and  promises  by  these  faithful  men  [the  leaders] 
was  in  due  time  productive  of  those  happy  and  tranquillizing 
effects  which  were  early  predicted  as  the  characteristic  of 
gospel  times."  In  the  same  year  a  revival  took  place  in 
Scotland,  beginning  at  Stewarton.  Some  idea  of  its  character 
may  be  gained  from  the  fact  that  it  was  called  the  "  Stewarton 
Sickness."  At  Shotts,  Scotland,  John  Livingston  preached 
a  sermon  on  June  21,  1630,  under  which  five  hundred  are 
said  to  have  been  converted.1  In  the  very  church  where 
"The  Great  Awakening"  began,  Solomon  Stoddard,  the 
grandfather  of  Jonathan  Edwards,  had  five  "  harvests"  during 
his  pastorate  from  1672  to  1729.  These  were  in  1679,  1683, 
1696,  1712,  and  1 7 18,  and  the  converts  at  these  times  in- 
cluded most  of  the  young  people  in  town.  These  and  similar 
experiences  were  but  harbingers — the  first  gusts  before  the 
whirlwind. 

Prior  to  1734  religion  was  at  a  low  ebb  in  New  England, 
although  there  still  remained  a  reverence  for  God  and  a  fear 
of  His  wrath,  of  the  devil,  and  of  hell.  These  fears  the 
revivalists  used  and  played  on  very  successfully.  Edwards, 
with  his  remarkable  personality  and  vivid  imagery  presented 
such  themes  as,  "Sinners  in  the  hands  of  an  angry  God," 
"The  justice  of  God  in  the  damnation  of  sinners,"  "Wrath 
upon  the  wicked  to  the  uttermost,"  and  "The  eternity  of 
hell  torments."  With  much  skill  and  tremendous  effect  he 
pictured  the  spider  being  devoured  by  the  fierce  flames,  the 
hyperassthetic  human  writhing   in   the   fiery   furnace,   and 

1  John  Macpherson,  Revival  and  Revival  Work. 


REVIVALS  177 

the  soul  in  the  clutches  of  cruel  devils.  With  such  seed  sown 
the  harvest  can  well  be  imagined.  Weeping,  crying,  wailing, 
shrieking,  and  fainting  were  common  in  meetings,  and  in  the 
beginning  Edwards  justified  them;  later,  his  good  sense  came 
to  his  rescue  and  he  lamented  that  he  had  not  taken  a  more 
decided  stand  against  such  delusions. 

In  1735  there  was  scarcely  an  unconverted  person  in 
Northampton,  and  most  of  the  recent  converts  had  become 
such  by  the  only  method  Edwards  preached — a  spiritual  con- 
vulsion. It  was  not  long  before  the  revival  spread  over  the 
surrounding  country,  and  then  over  all  New  England.  The 
revival  thus  started  was  carried  on  by  Davenport,  Wheelock, 
Barber,  Parsons,  Bellamy,  Pomroy,  Allen,  Bliss,  and  others. 
Most  of  them  preached  the  same  doctrines  that  Edwards  did, 
but  lacked  his  good  common  sense.  All  manner  of  extrava- 
gances were  indulged  and  encouraged.  Davenport,  es- 
pecially, was  successful  in  producing  tremblings,  shriekings, 
fallings,  and  faintings.  In  his  method  he  used  not  only  the 
passionate  appeal,  but  laying  aside  his  coat  he  would  leap, 
clap  his  hands,  stamp,  and  scream,  until  the  already  excited 
audience  would  shriek  and  fall  into  fits.  Fortunately  he  was 
arrested  and  brought  before  the  Assembly  of  Connecticut, 
which  judged  him  insane  and  ordered  him  deported  from  the 
colony.  Later  he  was  arrested  in  Boston  and  indicted  for  a 
breach  of  the  peace.  Barber  and  others  continued  the  irra- 
tional and  disorderly  work  until  Whitefield  came  in  1840. 
Of  course  this  is  not  the  whole  story;  Edwards  was  driven 
out  of  his  parish  a  few  years  later,  dissensions  arose  in  the  • -v 
churches,  and  much  bitterness  developed;  but  we  must  also 
note  that  churches  were  founded,  theological  doctrines  were 
changed  and  modified,  and  some  apathetic  and  unrighteous 
persons  became  sane  Christians  notwithstanding  the  insane 
methods. 

The  culmination  of  "The  Great  Awakening"  took  place 


178  REVIVALS 

under  the  ministry  of  Whitefield,  who  travelled  from  Maine 
to  Georgia  several  times,  frequently  speaking  many  times  a 
day  to  large  crowds,  and  meeting  with  much  success  in  re- 
claiming men.  He  was  assisted  by  clergymen  in  different 
states,  not  the  least  of  whom  were  Gilbert  and  William  Ten- 
nant  in  New  Jersey.  Naturally  there  were  extravagances 
Whitefield  himself  laying  much  emphasis  on  the  value  of 
impressions  and  impulses.  He  spoke  very  enthusiastically 
of  Davenport's  work,  and  did  not  apparently  criticise  the 
excesses.  Weeping  and  crying  were  not  uncommon  at  his 
meetings,  and  less  frequently  more  disorder.  It  is  estimated 
that  at  least  50,000  converts  resulted  from  "The  Great  Awak- 
ening"; and  this,  considering  the  population,  was  a  large 
number.  Those  physically,  mentally,  and  spiritually  in- 
jured have  not  been  estimated.  Through  Whitefield's  un- 
tiring efforts  this  revival  did  not  die  out  until  1770,  but  it 
abated  after  1750.1 

The  Wesleyan  revival,  as  is  common  with  all  revivals,  fol- 
lowed a  period  of  religious  decline.  The  leader  read  of  the 
Northampton  revival  with  its  bodily  manifestations,  and  in 
1739,  when  his  revival  began,  these  physical  concomitants 
were  seen  for  the  first  time  in  England.  They  took  place  at 
the  beginning  of  his  ministry,  principally  at  Bristol  and 
among  the  ignorant  inhabitants  of  the  nearby  town  of  Kings- 
wood,  and  after  an  almost  complete  suspension  for  four  years 
they  appeared  with  great  force  in  Chowden,  which  Wesley 
called  "the  Kingswood  of  the  North."     The  manifestations 

1  See  further  Jonathan  Edwards'  Works;  J.  Tracy,  The  Great  Awaken- 
ing; C.  Chauncy,  Seasonable  Thoughts  on  the  State  of  Religion  in  New 
England;  F.  M.  Davenport,  Primitive  Traits  in  Religious  Revivals;  W. 
A.  Chandler,  Great  Revivals  and  the  Great  Republic;  J.  Moses,  Patho- 
logical Aspects  of  Religions;  R.  Philip,  The  Life  and  Times  of  George 
Whitefield;  S.  P.  Hayes,  "An  Historical  Study  of  the  Edwardean  Re- 
vivals," American  Journal  of  Psychology,  XV,  pp.  550-574;  G.  S.  Hall, 
Adolescence,  II,  pp.  281-288. 


REVIVALS  179 

consisted  of  trembling,  screaming,  and  weeping,  but  prin- 
cipally of  falling  to  the  ground  and  suffering  excruciating 
pain.  Wesley  at  first  encouraged  these  things  and  looked 
upon  them  as  a  sign  of  God's  favor,  but  later  the  good  sense, 
so  characteristic  of  him  as  of  Edwards,  revealed  to  him  his 
error,  and  he  henceforth  looked  upon  them  as  the  work  of 
Satan.  Wesley  was  not  emotional,  and  there  was  very  little 
of  the  sensational  in  his  meetings ;  but  his  forceful  personality 
created  emotion  in  his  hearers,  which  showed  itself  in  this 
falling  phenomenon. 

As  Edwards  had  his  Davenport  and  Barber,  so  Wesley  had 
his  Berridge  and  Hicks,  who  preached  near  Cambridge, 
where  the  manifestations  were  carried  to  awful  extremes  by 
them.  In  1790,  one  year  before  his  death,  Wesley  found 
that  the  organization,  of  which  he  was  the  head,  boasted  of 
511  preachers,  120,000  members,  and  about  500,000  adherents 
in  all.  Notwithstanding  the  extravagances  of  the  first  part  of 
his  ministry,  Wesley's  later  life  exhibited  marked  control  and 
remarkably  good  judgment  for  the  age  in  which  he  lived,  a 
judgment  and  control  in  glaring  contrast  to  that  of  some  of 
his  followers  in  later,  and  what  should  be  more  sensible, 
times.1 

The  Kentucky  revival  of  1800  is  emblazoned  on  the  pages 
of  history  on  account  of  the  enormous  numbers  in  attendance 
at  the  camp-meetings  and  the  violence  and  variety  of  the 
abnormal  manifestations.  The  population  in  Kentucky  at 
this  time  was  fundamentally  Scotch-Irish  of  good  stock,  but 
mixed  with  this  were  lazy,  shiftless,  cowardly  descendants  of 
criminal  and  convict  emigrants;  Logan  County  was  called 
"Rogues'  Harbor"  and  "Satan's  Stronghold."     The  latter 

1  For  first-hand  material  see  Wesley's  Journals;  see  further  over  forty 
biographies  which  have  been  published  of  Wesley;  F.  M.  Davenport, 
Primitive  Traits  in  Religious  Revivals;  W.  A.  Chandler,  Great  Revivals 
and  the  Great  Republic. 


!&>  REVIVALS 

element  furnished  the  tinder  so  essential  for  the  sweeping 
conflagration.  The  suggestive  and  contagious  character  of 
the  population  may  be  estimated  by  the  parallelism  known 
to  exist  between  the  revival  counties  and  the  lynching  counties 
of  Kentucky.1 

When  Rev.  James  McGready,  a  Presbyterian  minister, 
came  to  Logan  County,  he  brought  with  him  the  Edwardsian 
slogan  of  the  awful  wrath  of  God  upon  impenitent  sinners. 
He  would  portray  hell  so  vividly  that  persons  would  grasp  the 
seats  to  prevent  falling  into  the  burning  abyss  which  they  saw 
yawning  at  their  feet.  His  meetings  .attracted  great  crowds 
and  his  fame  was  widespread.  In  1799,  the  two  McGee 
brothers  turned  aside,  while  on  their  way  to  Ohio,  to  attend  a 
sacramental  solemnity,  and  incidentally  to  hear  the  noted 
McGready.  Both  brothers  spoke  during  the  meeting  that 
day,  at  the  end  of  which  began  the  manifestations  which 
make  this  series  of  meetings  so  famous.  John  McGee  said 
that  when  the  first  meeting  closed,  "  the  floor  was  covered  with 
the  slain." 

From  here  the  revival  spread  over  Kentucky,  North  Caro- 
lina, and  Virginia  with  great  rapidity.  The  camp-meetings, 
however,  held  at  Gasper  River,  Logan  Co.,  and  Cane  Ridge, 
Bourbon  Co.,  Kentucky,  eclipsed  all  other  meetings.  At  the 
Cane  Ridge  meeting  it  is  estimated  that  20,000  people  at- 
tended, some  driving  in  carts  fifty  miles.  Everything  was 
forsaken  on  farms  and  in  villages,  and  with  their  families, 
bedding,  and  provisions  in  their  wagons,  men  drove  to  the 
meetings.  On  arriving  there  the  wagons  were  placed  in  rows, 
like  streets,  and  people  gave  themselves  up  to  excitement  and 
excesses,  never  thinking  of  returning  home  until  the  provisions 
were  exhausted. 

Especially  at  night,  with  the  camp-fires  blazing  around  the 
auditorium  cut  out  of  the  dense  woods,  the  breeze  echoing 
1  F.  M.  Davenport,  Primitive  Trails  in  Religious  Revivals,  p.  302  /. 


REVIVALS 


I8i 


back  the  shrieks  and  other  noises  from  the  impenetrable 
forest,  and  several  men  preaching  at  different  parts  of  the 
grounds  at  the  same  time,  the  effects  were  greatly  increased. 
Large  numbers  fell  and  would  lie  breathless  and  motionless 
for  hours,  or  would  shriek  or  groan  at  intervals.  As  many  as 
one  in  every  six  present  at  some  meetings  fell.  At  times 
these  were  carried  to  the  meeting-house  and  laid  down  so 
that  the  floor  was  nearly  covered.  Some  were  motionless, 
"some  talked  but  could  not  move.  Some  beat  the  floor  with 
their  heels.  Some,  shrieking  in  agony,  bounded  about  like 
a  live  fish  out  of  water.  Many  lay  down  and  rolled  over  and 
over  for  hours  at  a  time.  Others  rushed  wildly  over  the 
stumps  and  benches,  and  then  plunged,  shouting,  'Lost! 
Lost!'  into  the  forest."  It  was  a  common  sight  to  see  men 
leap,  sob,  shout,  laugh,  or  swoon,  and  when  a  meeting  seemed 
dull,  one  attack  would  immediately  increase  the  spirituality. 
The  "jerks"  seized  saint  and  sinner  alike,  it  was  no  respecter 
of  persons.  Those  affected  shook,  twitched,  jumped  like 
frogs,  or  bounded  like  fish,  and  the  scoffer  was  as  likely  to  be 
stricken  as  the  convert.  These  reflex  movements  first  ap- 
peared, but  when  the  cerebral  hemispheres  became  involved, 
then  unconsciousness  was  the  result.  Then  the  "barkers" 
were  seen.  Groups  of  men  and  women,  on  all  fours,  snarling, 
and  growling,  and  snapping  their  teeth,  barked  at  the  foot  of 
a  tree.  This  they  called  "treeing  the  devil."  The  "holy 
laugh"  became  a  part  of  the  worship;  both  in  chorus  and  in 
series  the  congregation  burst  out  into  loud  and  uncontrollable 
laughter.  All  kinds  of  preachers  and  exhorters  developed; 
in  one  instance  a  little  girl  of  seven  years  was  allowed  to 
preach  until  she  was  so  exhausted  that  she  could  not  utter 
another  word. 

Notwithstanding  these  fearful  extravagances,  some  good 
was  mixed  with  the  evil,  and  by  careful  nursing  developed 
righteousness  in  after  years.     The  great  revival  ended  in  an 


I«2 


REVIVALS 


excess  of  camp  meetings  in  1815.  Contemporaneous  with 
this  movement  in  Kentucky,  there  were  revivals  in  New  Eng- 
land which  affected  some  of  the  more  important  colleges,  and, 
being  less  tumultuous,  accomplished  much  good.1 

The  revival  of  1832,  as  it  is  called,  began  several  years 
earlier  and  continued  several  years  later.  So  far  as  definite 
leaders  can  be  named,  Rev.  Asahel  Nettleton  was  the  preacher 
leader  in  New  England,  and  Rev.  C.  G.  Finney  in  New  York. 
Nettleton  preached  the  strictest  Calvinism  with  hell  and 
damnation  unadulterated.  With  this,  however,  he  dis- 
couraged outbursts  of  emotion  and  physical  manifestations, 
advising  the  people  to  go  quietly  to  their  homes  apart  from 
the  crowd,  and  there  to  meditate.  His  work  was  deep,  but 
not  boisterous.  Mr.  Finney's  was  a  remarkable  personality, 
with  some  strange  influence,  almost  hypnotic,  which  all  who 
came  in  contact  with  him  noticed.  This  was  even  more 
marked  in  him  than  in  Wesley.  He  inclined  toward  free  will 
in  his  preaching,  encouraged  physical  manifestations,  and 
saw  people  weep,  cry,  and  fall  senseless.  In  his  later  years, 
he  eschewed  trying  to  scare  people,  and  with  him  the  appeal 
to  crude  and  instinctive  fear  terminated.  Finney's  work  con- 
tinued, with  the  interruptions  necessary  on  account  of  his 
duties  as  president  of  Oberlin,  until  i860.  Many  were 
brought  into  better  lives  by  the  work  of  these  men  and  their 
helpers.2 

We  will  not  pause  to  notice  the  Miller  Mania  of  1840-1844, 

1  See  further  F.  M.  Davenport,  Primitive  Traits  in  Religious  Revivals; 
W.  A.  Chandler,  Great  Revivals  and  the  Great  Republic;  J.  Moses, 
Pathological  Aspects  of  Religions;  B.  Sidis,  The  Psychology  0}  Sugges- 
tion; D.  W.  Yandell,  "Epidemic  Convulsions,"  Brain,  IV,  pp.  339-35°; 
E.  B.  Sherman,  "A  Voice  from  the  Past,"  Outlook,  March  21,  1908. 

2  See  further  F.  M.  Davenport,  Primitive  Traits  in  Religious  Revivals; 
W.  A.  Chandler,  Great  Revivals  and  the  Great  Republic;  Memoirs  of 
Charles  G.  Finney  written  by  himself;  C.  Cotton,  History  and  Character 
of  American  Revivals  of  Religion. 


REVIVALS  183 

but  pass  on  to  the  revival  of  1857.  At  a  time  of  great  financial 
depression,  a  noon-day  prayer-meeting  for  business  men  was 
started  in  Brooklyn,  and  from  this  sprang  the  great  revival 
which  became  national  in  extent.  Prayer-meetings  were  held 
in  all  the  large  cities.  In  fact,  it  was  a  revival  characterized  by 
prayer  rather  than  by  preaching.  It  was  born  of  the  need 
which  men  felt  for  something  greater  than  their  own  ability, 
hence  there  was  no  great  preacher  who  might  be  styled  the 
leader.  This  was  rather  a  layman's  movement.  On  account 
of  its  deep,  helpful  character  no  physical  manifestations  were 
evident.  It  is  estimated  that  nearly  one  million  persons  were 
converted  at  this  time.  The  contemporaneous  revivals  in 
Ireland  and  Wales  were  not  so  free  from  excesses.  The 
revival,  especially  in  Ireland,  was  spoken  of  as  a  disease. 
People  were  prostrated,  shrieked  or  cried,  or  were  afflicted 
with  dumbness,  blindness,  stigmata,  catalepsy,  or  sleeping 
sickness.  Preachers  seemed  powerless  to  prevent  the  mani- 
festations. In  Wales  30,000  are  said  to  have  been  converted, 
and  in  Ireland  many  more.1 

The  revival  of  1875  was  led  by  the  great  apostle  of  common 
sense,  D.  L.  Moody.  In  company  with  Mr.  Sankey,  he  went 
to  England  in  1873,  and  there  achieved  his  initial  success. 
Returning  to  America,  he  visited  Brooklyn,  Philadelphia, 
New  York,  and  Chicago,  and  had  a  large  number  of  converts 
resultant  from  his  work;  for  the  remainder  of  his  life  he  de- 
voted his  time  to  revival  work  and  Christian  education.  His 
meetings  were  not  characterized  by  physical  manifestations. 
Each  of  the  three  factors  so  prominent  in  early  revivals  in 
producing  these  effects  was  now  absent.  The  man,  the 
message,  and  the  masses  had  changed.  I  first  heard  Moody 
in  1895,  but  heard  him  often  afterward,  and  his  method  was 

1  See  further  F.  M.  Davenport,  Primitive  Traits  in  Religious  Revivals; 
W.  A.  Chandler,  Great  Revivals  and  the  Great  Republic;  B.  Sidis,  The 
Psychology  0}  Suggestion. 


i84  REVIVALS 

never  objectionable — of  course  that  was  late  in  his  life;  the 
message  was  not  "the  wrath  of  God,"  but  "the  love  of  God" 
— there  were  no  longer  terrifying  appeals  to  fear  to  create 
nervous  disorders.  The  people,  moreover,  had  developed  in 
intelligence  so  as  to  be  less  easily  carried  away  by  excitement. 
It  was  a  great  surprise  to  many  that  Mr.  Moody  should  devote 
the  latter  part  of  his  life  almost  entirely  to  educational  work, 
but  his  course  has  been  justified.  His  great  revival  meetings 
no  doubt  accomplished  much,  but  his  chief  and  lasting  work 
was  done  at  his  summer  assemblies  and  at  the  institutions  at 
Northfield,  Mt.  Hermon,  and  Chicago.  His  great  power  of 
organization  and  his  rugged  common  sense,  displayed  in  his 
evangelistic  work,  were  brought  out  even  more  clearly  in  his 
labors  for  Christian  education.  In  Finney  we  see  the  transi- 
tion from  the  "old-fashioned"  revival  to  the  new,  and  in 
Moody  we  see  the  only  great  revival  leader  under  the  new 
regime.1 

The  Welsh  revival  of  1905  is  so  recent  as  to  be  familiar  to 
all.  Evan  Roberts  has  been  called  the  leader,  so  far  as  there 
was  one.  Similar  to  the  1857  revival,  it  was  a  lay  movement, 
and,  like  the  1875  revival,  the  love  rather  than  the  wrath  of 
God  was  preached.  Intense  excitement  prevailed  at  times, 
but  this  fortunately  found  vent  in  the  singing,  which  was  a 
feature  of  the  revival.  In  the  rural  and  primitive  commu- 
nities of  Wales  one  would  expect  some  physical  manifesta- 
tions; but,  thanks  to  the  singing,  these  were  largely  absent, 
being  confined  to  sobbing,  disorderly  meetings,  and  "holy 
laughter."  Over  100,000  are  said  to  have  been  converted. 
Notwithstanding  the  prognostications  of  the  leader,  and  the 
attempts  of  men,  especially  in  America,  this  did  not  become 
a  world-wide   movement.     Some  statistics  concerning  the 

1  See  further  W.  R.  Moody,  The  Life  oj  Dwight  L.  Moody;  F.  M. 
Davenport,  Primitive  Traits  in  Religious  Revivals;  W.  A.  Chandler, 
Great  Revivals  and  the  Great  Republic. 


REVIVALS  185 

permanency  of  this  revival  are  now  available.1  During  the 
revival,  the  Baptists  of  Wales  received  the  largest  propor- 
tionate increase,  between  30,000  and  40,000.  Their  diary  for 
1908,  containing  the  statistics  for  1907,  shows  that  there  has 
been  a  total  decrease  in  the  membership  for  the  year  of  5,271. 
During  the  years  before  the  revival  the  returns  used  to  show 
an  annual  increase  of  between  2,000  and  3,000;  the  reaction 
is,  therefore,  responsible  for  a  difference  of  about  8,000  in  this 
one  year — nearly,  if  not  quite,  one-quarter  of  the  amount  of 
the  total  accessions  during  the  revival.  Some  districts  find 
the  present  permanent  residuum  to  be  not  more  than  twenty 
per  cent.,  while  in  other  districts  the  deflections  are  not  over 
that  amount.  Of  course  it  is  still  too  soon  to  form  a  judicial 
estimate  of  the  effects  of  the  revival. 

While  physical  manifestations  are  fortunately  a  thing  of 
the  past  in  the  more  civilized  countries,  or,  better,  among  the 
more  intelligent  peoples,  we  must  expect  a  continuance 
among  the  more  primitive  ones,  as  with  our  negroes,  and  the 
inhabitants  of  Eastern  lands.  Let  me  quote  from  an  ac- 
count of  a  revival  in  Nellore,  India,  in  July,  1906.  "There 
were  people  ...  on  the  floor  fairly  writhing  over  the 
realization  of  sin  as  it  came  over  them.  .  .  .  Saturday  we 
were  favoured  with  a  wonderful  manifestation  of  the  spirit  [  ?]. 
One  of  the  older  girls,  who  had  had  a  remarkable  experience, 
went  into  a  trance  with  her  head  thrown  back,  her  arms 
folded,  and  motionless,  except  for  a  slight  movement  of  her 
foot.  She  seemed  to  be  seeing  something  wonderful,  for  she 
would  marvel  at  it  and  then  laugh  excitedly.  .  .  .  One  girl 
rushed  to  the  back  of  the  vestibule  and,  lying  across  a  bench, 
with  her  head  and  hands  against  the  wall,  she  fairly  writhed 
in  agony  for  about  two  hours  before  peace  came  to  her."  2 

'I.  M.  Price,  "Results  of  the  Revival  in  Wales,"  Standard,  1908. 
2  The  Examiner,  Sept.  6,  1906;  see  also  The  Maritime  Baptist,  Nov. 
12  and  19,  Dec.  21,  1906. 


186  REVIVALS 

Reports  from  different  parts  of  India  in  the  summer  and  fall 
of  1906  show  that  this  revival  rivals  that  of  1800  in  physical 
manifestations. 

An  epitome  of  revival  phenomena  has  been  presented  in 
order  that  we  may  have  material  from  which  to  make  some 
observations.  In  the  first  place,  the  periodic  character  of 
the  occurrences  is  noticeable.  This  was  seen  also  in  the 
treatment  of  epidemics.  The  revivals  come  more  frequently 
than  the  epidemics,  and  last  a  shorter  time,  as  the  following 
table  clearly  shows.1 


REVIVALS 

The  Great  Awakening 
Wesley         .... 
Kentucky     .... 
Nettleton  and  Finney 
Miller  .... 

American,  Irish,  and  Welsh 
Moody  .... 
Welsh  .... 


i734-i75o 
1 740-1 790 
1796-1815 
1828-1840 
1 840- 1 844 
1857-1859 
1873-1880 
1905-1906 


This  periodicity  is  characteristic  of  all  national  movements, 
and  between  the  revivals  come  seasons  of  great  religious  de- 
clension. This  is  true  of  the  individual  as  well  as  of  the 
race. 

We  must  also  notice  what  have  been  called  "fashions"  2  in 
physical  manifestations;  Wesley's  converts  fell  as  though 
thunderstruck,  the  Kentucky  converts  had  the  "jerks." 
Over-wrought  emotion  may  take  different  forms  with  differ- 
ent people  according  to  the  temperament  and  habits,  but 
when  one  person  in  a  meeting  has  been  affected  in  a  par- 
ticular manner  the  power  of  suggestion  and  imitation  over- 
comes the  tendencies  of  the  different  temperaments,  and  a 
common  affection  is  the  result.     We  have  in  this  another 

1  See  also  Table,  p.  161. 

2  F.  Granger,  The  Soul  0}  a  Christian,  p.  106;  see  also  pp.  76  and  102. 


REVIVALS  187 

example  of  what  has  been  called,  in  a  too  loose  use  of  the 
word,  I  believe,  "crowd  hypnotism."  At  any  rate  the  con- 
tagious quality  of  the  manifestations  cannot  be  doubted. 
The  revival  is  characterized  by  conditions  most  favorable 
to  this  state,  e.  g.,  monotony,  fixed  attention,  control  gained 
by  singing  manoeuvres,  limitation  of  voluntary  movements, 
the  excitation  and  depression  of  fear,  intense  emotion,  eager 
expectation,  and  the  suggestions  given  by  both  speaker  and 
audience.1  Of  course,  we  recognize  the  additional  intensity 
of  such  a  condition  on  account  of  the  presence  of  the  crowd 
surrounding  one.  We  have  also  seen  that  the  more  primitive 
the  people  the  more  easily  it  is  moved.  All  crowds  tend  to 
return  to  primitive  conditions  under  favorable  circum- 
stances, and  children  more  readily  than  their  elders.  In 
every  crowd  there  are  always  a  few  susceptible  ones,  and 
these  furnish  fire  for  the  explosion,  for  even  a  slight  rise  in 
the  general  feeling  of  a  crowd  affects  each  individual  by  a 
loss  of  inhibition,  where  the  same  rise  in  feeling  in  a  solitary 
person  would  be  impotent.  At  such  times  every  member  of 
the  crowd  is  especially  susceptible.  The  revivalist,  although 
not  a  trained  psychologist,  and  perhaps  even  ignorant  of  his 
modus  operandi,  is  a  past  master  of  "crowd  hypnotism." 
His  methods  are  cleverly  calculated  to  put  the  mind  into  an 
abnormal  condition  and  then  seize  it  when  it  is  most  sus- 
ceptible. To  this  end  "pride"  is  decried  and  "self -sur- 
render" is  exalted.  It  is  said  that  one  of  the  lesser  revivalists, 
after  inviting  sinners  to  the  penitent  bench,  and  before  any 
had  started,  would  exclaim,  "See  them  coming!  See  them 
coming!"  and  the  effort  was  frequently  successful.2  The 
suggestion  is  often  made  at  the  beginning  of  the  service  thus, 
"A  number  have  come  forward  at  every  meeting,"  or  "Some- 

1  F.  M.  Davenport,  Primitive  Traits  in  Religious  Revivals,  pp.  216- 

251- 

2  G.  A.  Coe,  The  Spiritual  Life,  p.  145. 


188  REVIVALS 

one  is  going  to  be  converted  to-night."  In  Starbuck's  ex- 
amination, Fear,  Example,  Imitation,  and  Social  Pressure 
were  the  motives  in  no  less  than  46  per  cent,  of  revival  con- 
versions.1 

Revivals  have  always  been  characterized  by  intense  emo- 
tion.    This  has  been  at  the  same  time  the  source  of  their 
strength  and  of  their  weakness,  of  their  success  and  of  their 
danger.     Thousands  have  been  swept  through  a  revival  by 
the  torrent  of  emotion,  some  to  moral  transformation  and 
useful  lives,  others  to  moral  degradation  and  loss  of  all 
respect  for  religious  things.     When  the  sensibilities  alone  are 
affected,  and  the  intellect  and  will  are  neglected,  the  result  is 
inevitably  disappointing.     This  emotional  method  has  de- 
veloped a  special,  explosive  type  of  conversion,  and  its  apolo- 
gists have  frequently  assumed  that  this  is  the  only  type.     The 
danger  from  this  is  twofold:   those  who  have  gone  through 
such  an  experience  are  liable  to  look  upon  it  as  a  miraculous 
rather  than  a  natural  process,2  and  they,  and  others  as  well, 
are  prone  to  believe  that  this  is  the  only  method  by  which  a 
person  can  be  saved.     When  there  is  laid  down  one  method 
which  all  must  follow,  and  that  an  emotional  and  explosive 
one,  those  who  are  temperamentally  constituted  so  as  to  be 
unable  to  experience  these  sudden  changes  and  overpowering 
emotions  are  hopeless  of  knowing  God  or  of  obtaining  salva- 
tion.3   They  are  taught  to  seek  something  which  they  can 
never  find,  and  either  despair  or  revolt  is  the  result:    they 
either  give  up  trying,  or  consider  religion  all  humbug.     This 
grave  mistake  on  the  part  of  many  revivalists  has  done  in- 
calculable harm.     Feeling,  or  any  other  subjective  test,  can- 
not be  the  only  one— "by  their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them,  not 
by  their  roots." 

1  E.  D.  Starbuck,  Psychology  0}  Religion,  pp.  50  #. 

8  W.  James,  The  Varieties  0}  Religious  Experience,  p.  228. 

1  G.  A.  Coe,  The  Spiritual  Life,  pp.  147-150. 


REVIVALS  189 

Closely  connected  with  this  is  the  danger  that  persons  will 
obtain  an  erroneous  idea  of  Christianity.  It  not  infrequently 
occurs  that  mere  emotional  excitement  which  accompanies  a 
revival  is  mistaken  for  the  transforming  power  of  the  Spirit 
of  God,1  or  what  is  the  product  of  simple  suggestion  is  in- 
correctly attributed  to  the  presence  of  God,  or  to  a  change  of 
character.  The  confusion  has  not  only  been  noticed  by  the 
psychologist,  but  the  contradictions  on  the  part  of  revivalists 
themselves  are  evidence  that  the  source  of  certain  phenomena 
is  not  clear.  By  some  the  emotional  concomitants  have  been 
attributed  to  God  and  by  others  to  the  devil.  It  is  not  strange 
that  persons  who  have  been  induced  to  "go  forward,"  but  who 
were  not  fitted  to  do  so,  should  indulge  in  scoffing  the  next 
day  and  claim  that  the  gospel  was  inefficacious.  If  salvation 
consists  simply  in  the  emotional  surging  of  the  over-wrought 
mind,  the  scoffer  is  correct;  but  it  does  not.  It  is  therefore 
very  essential  that  excitement  or  suggestion  should  not  be 
confused  with  spirituality.  It  is  a  matter  beyond  dispute 
that  revivalists  are  allowed  to  perpetrate  certain  mutilations 
upon  souls  which  they  claim  are  immortal,  while  the  health 
authorities  would  not  allow  similar  mutilations  upon  bodies 
which  are  admitted  to  be  mortal.  One  of  the  greatest  mis- 
takes, and  one  which  has  caused  much  suffering  to  the  little 
ones,  is  the  classification  of  the  most  hardened  criminal  and 
the  most  innocent  child  together  as  both  equally  sinful  and 
both  needing  to  pass  through  the  most  torturing  remorse  for  sin. 

A  matter  of  not  a  little  concern  to  those  who  are  striving 
hard  against  the  Zeitgeist  to  continue  revivals  is  the  compara- 
tively low  standard  of  character  of  the  men  who  go  from 
place  to  place  "getting  up"  revivals.  This  statement  does 
not  apply  to  all,  far  from  it;  there  are  some  notable  excep- 
tions. The  predominance  of  the  commercial  spirit  in  their 
method,  where  the  "free-will  offering"  is  so  adroitly  and  in- 
1  J.  H.  McDonald,  The  Revival,  a  Symposium,  p.  55  /. 


i9o  REVIVALS 

tensely  emphasized,  the  apparent  monopoly  of  ignorance  of 
exegesis  and  interpretation,  concomitant  vaudeville  actions, 
and  other  features  antithetic  to  the  dignity  of  the  gospel  of 
Jesus  Christ  and  to  the  spirit  of  the  Master,  cause  the  pastor 
who  has  the  good  of  his  church  at  heart  to  scrutinize  the 
revivalist  very  carefully,  respecting  both  character  and 
methods,  before  he  trusts  his  people  to  the  influence  of  a 
power  which  is  as  puissant  for  evil  as  for  good.  As  an  illustra- 
tion of  these  things,  allow  me  to  quote  an  account  of  a  revival 
held  in  Bloomington,  Illinois,  in  this  year  of  our  Lord,  1908. 

A  local  paper  heads  its  columns  in  great  letters:  "5,843 
Converts,"  "683  in  a  Day"— "Total  Gift  to  Mr.  Sun- 
day, $10,431."—"  Greatest  Revival  in  History"— "  Will 
Attract  Attention  of  Religious  World" — "Sermon 
on  'Booze'  the  Great  Effort  of  the  Revival."  Six 
columns  of  space  are  used  to  present  an  account  of  the  meet- 
ings, evidently  in  consideration  of  the  deep  interest  of  the 
readers.  The  sermon  on  "Booze"  and  an  account  of 
the  physical  exertions  of  the  preacher  are  given  in  detail.  The 
following  is  a  fragment  of  the  report:  "He  began  with  his 
coat,  vest,  tie,  and  collar  off.  In  a  few  moments  his  shirt  and 
undershirt  were  gaping  open  to  the  waist  and  the  muscles  of 
his  neck  and  chest  were  seen  working  like  those  in  the  arm 
of  a  blacksmith,  while  perspiration  poured  from  every  pore. 
His  clothing  was  soaked  as  if  a  hose  had  been  turned  on  him. 

"He  strained,  and  twisted,  and  reached  up  and  down. 
Once  he  was  on  the  floor  for  just  a  second,  in  the  attitude  of 
crawling,  to  show  that  all  crime  crawled  out  of  the  saloon; 
then  he  was  on  his  feet  as  quickly  as  a  cat  could  jump.  At 
the  end  of  forty-five  minutes  he  mounted  a  chair,  reached 
high,  as  he  shouted,  then  again  was  on  the  floor  and  dropped 
prostrate  to  illustrate  a  story  of  a  drunken  man,  bounded  to 
his  feet  again  as  if  steel  springs  filled  that  lithe,  slender, 
lightning-like  body. 


REVIVALS 


191 


"He  generally  breaks  a  common  kitchen  chair  in  this 
sermon,  and  this  came  after  a  terrible  effort,  with  eyes  flash- 
ing, face  scowling,  the  picture  of  hate.  He  whirled  the  chair 
over  his  head,  smashed  the  chair  to  the  platform  floor,  whirled 
the  shattered  wreck  in  the  air  again,  then  threw  it  to  the 
ground  in  front  of  the  pulpit. 

"In  two  minutes  men  from  the  front  row  were  tearing  the 
wreck  to  pieces  and  dividing  it  up,  a  round  here,  a  leg  there, 
a  piece  of  the  back  to  another,  and  so  on.  Later  men  carried 
away  in  cheering  could  be  seen  in  the  audience  waving  those 
chair  fragments  in  the  air."  Power  there  was  there,  but  how 
was  it  used? 

Here  we  have  touched  the  key-note;  the  revival  is  a  power.1 
The  question  of  moment  is,  how  shall  this  power  be  turned, 
and  can  it  be  guided  safely?  All  powers  are  capable  of 
reverse  action:  water,  fire,  steam,  electricity,  are  wonderful 
aids  to  mankind  if  regulated,  but  if  they  get  beyond  control, 
how  great  is  the  destruction!  A  child  can  start  a  fire,  it  is 
not  so  easily  stopped.  A  revival  is  such  a  power  that  when 
once  started  it  may  sweep  a  community.  It  may  arouse  the 
passions  and  degrade  religion  to  the  frenzies  of  savages  or 
beasts,  or  it  may  permeate  the  minds  of  men  and  cause  a 
growth  to  the  full  stature  of  the  true  man. 

What  can  the  psychologist  prognosticate  regarding  the 
future  of  revivals  ?  2  Prognosticate  he  may,  for  revivals  are 
not  only  dependent  upon  God  but  upon  men — both  factors 
must  be  taken  into  account.  First,  we  may  say  definitely 
that  the  "old-fashioned"  revival  is  an  impossibility  in  the 
more  civilized  and  educated  countries.  By  "old-fashioned" 
we  mean,  of  course,  those  of  1740  and  1800;  Finney  and 
Nettleton  were  the  transition  revivalists.     It  does  not  seem 

1  J.  B.  Pratt,  The  Psychology  oj  Religious  Belie],  p.  221. 
8  G.  A.  Coe,  The  Religion  of  a  Mature  Mind,  pp.  262-282;    F.  M. 
Davenport,  Primitive  Traits  in  Religious  Revivals,  pp.  211-215. 


192 


REVIVALS 


likely  that  a  great  revival  even  of  the  modern  type,  i.  e.,  that 
of  Moody,  is  a  possibility.  The  attempt  to  duplicate  the 
Welsh  revival  in  England  and  America  was  a  signal  failure. 
Notice  also  the  silent  testimony  of  Mr.  Moody  that  some- 
thing deeper  than  the  public  meeting  was  necessary;  his 
educational  institutions  were  the  offspring  of  keen  insight. 
The  revival  looks  into  the  future  and  says,  "I  must  decrease, 
but  He  must  increase."  It  will  not,  it  cannot,  stand  in  the 
way  of  the  coming  of  the  Kingdom.  It  takes  its  place  with 
the  Old  Testament,  with  the  Jews,  with  John  the  Baptist. 
It  has  done  its  work  and  fulfilled  its  mission,  a  work  and  a 
mission  not  without  value,  and  its  very  success  is  shown  in 
the  fact  that  it  has  outgrown  its  usefulness. 

Notwithstanding  all  that  has  been  said  regarding  extrava- 
gances, good  has  been  accomplished  by  the  revival.  Why 
not,  then,  continue  it?  We  cannot  do  it  any  more  than  we 
can  use  yesterday's  sunshine  for  the  growth  of  to-day.  The 
revivalists  recognize  the  decline  of  the  revival,  and  a  great 
variety  of  reasons  are  given  for  it.  Listen  to  some  of  them: 
material  prosperity;  growth  of  science  and  the  passing  of 
blind  faith;  the  teaching  of  the  theological  seminaries;  the 
effect  of  higher  criticism;  the  evolutionary  theory  of  sin;  and 
the  widening  of  the  range  of  human  motives.  There  is  prob- 
ably some  truth  in  all  of  them,  but  the  comprehensive  reason 
is  that  people  have  changed,  they  have  grown.  Through  the 
influence  of  education,  business,  civilization,  and  the  revival 
itself  they  have  gained  self-control,  increased  in  intelligence, 
and  acquired  a  rational  inhibition.  These  make  men  less 
unstable,  less  suggestible,  and  less  influenced  by  revival 
methods.  Life  requires  a  conformity  to  environment ;  if  the 
revival  is  to  live  it  must  change  to  fit  the  times.  When  we 
say,  then,  that  revivals  are  unlikely  for  the  future,  we  do  not 
mean  that  there  will  be  no  great  religious  movements,  for 
these  are  continually  going  on ;  nor  do  we  say  that  there  will 


REVIVALS  193 

be  no  more  mass  meetings  for  religious  purposes;  but  we  do 
say  that  the  movements  will  have  to  change  their  methods 
and  the  mass  meetings  will  have  to  be  permeated  with  intel- 
lectual activity  as  well  as  emotion.  This  prognostication 
does  not  apply  to  primitive  people  like  the  aborigines  or 
negroes  of  this  continent,  nor  does  it  apply  to  the  Eastern 
nations,  where  great  revivals  will  probably  continue  until 
they  have  reached  our  standard  of  civilization  and  intelligence. 
One  of  the  principal  reasons  why  there  will  probably  be  no 
more  great  revivals,  and  one  of  the  chief  reasons  why  revivals 
have  declined,  is  that  since  the  last  great  revival  we  have 
made  a  marvellous  discovery.  We  have  discovered  the  child. 
I  do  not  mean  that  the  child  was  not  known  to  some  extent 
before  1873,  for  Horace  Bushnell  wrote  his  Christian  Nur- 
ture in  1847;  but  the  fact  should  be  noted  that  the  sciences 
of  paidology  and  pedagogy  have  arisen  during  the  last  quarter 
of  a  century.  We  are  revising  our  ideas  as  we  read  God's 
thoughts  after  Him.  We  see  the  great  religious  and  spiritual 
waste  resulting  from  our  past  action  in  allowing  persons  to 
grow  up  in  sin,  teaching  them  that  they  were  the  blackest 
sinners,  and  then  trying  to  convert  them.  They  tried  to  live 
up  to  our  estimate  of  them,  as  all  people  do.  Now  we  try  to 
educate  the  child  so  that  he  may,  naturally  and  appropriately, 
take  his  place  in  the  Kingdom,  and  never  suggest  to  him  that 
his  place  is  anywhere  else.  Instead  of  teaching  him  that  he 
is  expected  to  sow  "wild  oats,"  we  look  to  him  to  sow  the 
seed  of  the  Kingdom.  The  educational  methods  of  the  last 
few  years,  which  we  have  found  so  efficacious  in  business  and 
in  secular  education,  we  are  now  using  for  the  training  of  the 
child  in  righteousness.  This  has  been  no  small  gain,  and  we 
rejoice  that  instead  of  the  camp-meeting  we  find  the  Chau- 
tauqua, and  in  place  of  the  terrifying  message  of  condemna- 
tion and  repulsion,  we  have  the  comforting  and  profitable 
gospel  of  Divine  childhood.     If  we  were  asked  to  designate 


194 


REVIVALS 


the  present  great  religious  movement — or  call  it  the  present 
revival,  if  you  will — we  should  point  to  the  continuous  nur- 
ture of  the  Divine  life  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave.  This  is 
a  revival  which  has  come  to  stay. 

I  must  close  this  chapter  as  I  began  it,  with  an  appreciation 
of  the  revival.  No  one  can  possibly  take  an  unbiassed  view x 
and  fail  to  be  impressed  with  the  wonderful  amount  of  good 
which  has  been  accomplished  by  revivals,  as  no  one  can 
become  familiar  with  them  and  fail  to  recognize  the  harm 
they  have  done.  It  takes  two  or  three  years  for  churches  to 
get  rid  of  the  unsanctified  riff-raff  which  is  swept  in  on  the 
tide  of  a  revival,  and  which  brings  discredit  to  the  name  of  the 
church  and  to  the  gospel;  yet  there  are  usually  a  few  who 
remain  steadfast,  and  some  men  who  have  been  most  valua- 
ble in  after  years  have  come  in  through  revival  influence.  It 
is  well  known  that  revivals  are  a  productive,  exciting  cause  of 
nervous  disorders  and  insanity;  yet,  on  the  other  hand,  we 
know  that  many  a  man  who  for  years  has  been  beside  him- 
self is  now  "clothed  and  in  his  right  mind"  on  account  of  the 
beneficent  effects  of  a  revival.  This  is  especially  true  of  the 
more  ignorant  and  unstable.  The  drunkard,  for  example, 
if  reformed  by  religious  influences,  usually  begins  his  religious 
life  in  a  revival.  Further,  we  are  bound  to  admit  that  even 
when  the  conversion  is  accompanied  by  abnormal  phenom- 
ena, it  sometimes  works  for  lasting  good ;  this  effect  is  not  on 
account  of  such  phenomena,  but  notwithstanding  them.  We 
recognize  that  the  revival  movement  "has  contributed  little  or 
nothing  to  theology,  nothing  to  the  science  of  ethics,  and  has 
stood  aloof  from  and  discouraged  science,  poetry,  philosophy, 
and  the  fine  arts,"2  but  notwithstanding  the  persons  who  have 
been  hardened  against,  suspicious  of,  and  incorrectly  impressed 
concerning  religion  on  account  of  revivals,  we  must  still 

1  B.  Sidis,  The  Psychology  of  Suggestion,  pp.  360  /. 
*  F.  Granger,  The  Soul  oj  a  Christian,  p.  253. 


REVIVALS  195 

realize  that  revivals  have  emphasized  and  attracted  attention 
to  religion  during  times  of  great  moral  and  spiritual  depres- 
sion, quickened  altruistic  impulses,  destroyed  the  canker  of 
formalism,  and  by  turning  the  search-light  inward  caused 
individual  morality  to  be  more  indissolubly  connected  with 
the  religious  life.  The  emotionalism  of  revivals  has  led  to 
many  sad  extravagances,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  as  Newman 
has  so  well  said,  "Calculation  never  made  a  hero." 

To  conclude,  then,  the  value  of  the  revival  cannot  be  deter- 
mined by  asking  the  question,  Do  revivals  do  any  good? 
We  must  ask,  is  the  maximum  of  good  accomplished  with  the 
concomitant  minimum  of  evil?  Suppose  in  some  revival 
services  300  are  reported  converted,  100  join  the  church,  and 
in  one  year's  time  50  are  faithful  (a  large  percentage).  We 
must  all  rejoice  concerning  the  50,  but  what  are  we  to  say 
about  the  remaining  250  who  are  spiritually  mutilated, 
mangled,  and  incapacitated? 

I  have  not  said  anything  in  this  chapter  on  the  divine  power 
in  revivals,  because  we  have  been  discussing  some  phenomena 
which  have  had  little  divine  influence  in  them.  However, 
it  is  not  on  account  of  unbelief  in  God's  influence  upon 
men's  lives,  but  because  this  properly  belongs  and  will  be 
considered  in  the  chapter  on  Conversion. 


CHAPTER  XV 

FAITH  CURE 

"Our  remedies  oft  in  ourselves  do  lie, 

Which  we  ascribe  to  heaven." — Shakespeare. 

In  all  ages  wonderful  cures  have  been  wrought  by  means 
of  the  belief  on  the  part  of  the  diseased  in  the  healing  power 
of  certain  objects  or  persons.  In  fact,  primitive  therapeutics 
consisted  in  little  else.  Talismans,  amulets,  and  charms 
have  been  the  occasions  of  many  miracles  of  healing  of  which 
the  belief  by  the  patient  has  been  the  true  medicine.  In 
early  times  the  cure  was  usually  associated  with  and  credited 
to  religious  influence  of  some  kind.  To  effect  a  cure  among 
some  people  the  image  of  a  certain  demon  was  applied  to  the 
part  of  the  body  supposed  to  be  suffering  from  the  malign 
influence  of  that  demon;  or  else  the  image  might  be  used  as 
a  preventive,  protecting  the  possessor  from  the  evil  eye,  which 
all  ancient  people  believed  to  be  peculiarly  sinister.  Among 
savages,  as  well  as  in  early  civilization,  the  magician  was  also 
physician  and  priest,  and  the  practice  of  magic  was  primarily 
religious.  In  magic  aimed  to  cure  disease  there  were  many 
rites  and  ceremonies  to  be  performed,  all  thought  to  be  of  a 
religious  nature,  and  at  the  same  time  there  were  formulae  for 
exorcising  the  demon  of  disease,  which  priest  as  well  as  lay- 
man believed  to  be  essential  to  the  cure. 

Even  for  centuries  after  men  wrote  history  this  form  of 
therapeutics  was  regarded  as  the  principal  means  of  healing. 
As  far  as  we  are  able  to  trace  the  subject  into  the  remote  past, 
the  healing  touch  was  used  by  the  old  Egyptians  and  other 
Orientals.    The  Ebers  papyrus  represents  that  an  important 

196 


FAITH  CURE  197 

part  of  the  treatment  of  the  patient  prior  to  1552  B.C.  con- 
sisted in  the  laying  on  of  hands,  combined  with  an  extensive 
formulary  and  many  ceremonial  rites.1  The  early  Hebrews, 
who  derived  their  medical  knowledge  from  Egypt,  considered 
disease  a  punishment  for  sin,  and  the  Levites  were  the  sole 
practitioners.  After  the  return  from  the  Babylonian  deporta- 
tion there  arose  a  class  of  temple  physicians  and  special 
surgeons,  all,  however,  as  with  other  nations,  connected  with 
religious  rites.  The  Vedas,  the  sacred  books  of  India,  reveal 
demonology,  in  that  country,  as  a  great  influence  in  the  prac- 
tice, and  a  large  part  of  the  belief  among  physicians,  from 
whom  decorum  and  piety  were  required. 

The  excavations  of  Cavvadias  at  Epidaurus  have  furnished 
us  with  much  interesting  material  concerning  the  cures  per- 
formed at  this  ancient  Greek  shrine  five  hundred  years  before 
the  beginning  of  the  Christian  era.  If  the  modern  physician 
still  recognizes  iEsculapius  as  his  patron  saint,  he  must  have 
great  respect  for  faith  cure.  It  appears  certain  from  in- 
scriptions found  upon  "stelse"  that  were  dug  up  at  Epidaurus 
and  published  in  1891,  that  the  system  of  vEsculapius  was 
based  upon  the  miracle  workings  of  a  demi-god,  and  not  upon 
the  medical  art  as  we  now  know  it.  The  modus  operandi  was 
unique  in  some  details.  The  patients,  mostly  incurables, 
came  laden  with  sacrifices.  They  first  cleansed  themselves 
with  water  from  the  holy  well,  and,  after  certain  ceremonial 
acts  had  been  performed  by  the  priests,  fell  into  a  deep  sleep. 
The  son  of  Apollo  then  appeared  to  them  in  dreams,  attended 
to  the  particular  ailment  of  the  sufferer,  and  specified  sacri- 
fices or  acts  which  would  restore  health.  In  most  cases  the 
sick  awoke  suddenly  cured.  Large  sums  of  money  were 
asked  for  these  cures;  from  one  inscription  we  learn  that  a 
sum  corresponding  to  $12,000  was  paid  as  a  fee.  It  was  not 
until  five  centuries  later,  when  credulity  concerning  miracles 

1  A.  Moll,  Hypnotism,  p.  4. 


i98  FAITH  CURE 

was  on  the  wane,  that  the  priests  began  to  study  and  to  apply 
medical  means  in  order  to  sustain  the  reputation  of  the  place 
and  to  keep  up  its  enormous  revenues.1  The  temple  sleep 
used  at  Epidaurus,  and  in  common  use  among  the  old  Greeks 
and  Egyptians,  corresponded  to  the  artificial  sleep  now  called 
hypnotism,  and  was  a  means  of  facilitating  the  effects  of 
suggestion. 

From  this  time  to  the  Middle  Ages,  while  some  progress  was 
made  in  the  study  of  anatomy  and  diagnosis,  there  was  little 
advance  in  therapeutics.  The  reason  for  this  will  be  appa- 
rent when  we  remember  that  whatever  the  disease  might  be, 
its  cure  was  largely  a  prerogative  of  religion,  and  any  other 
system  of  therapeutics  would  have  been  sacrilege.  Being 
thus  in  the  thraldom  of  religious  superstition  and  misappre- 
hension, the  science  of  healing,  which  from  the  nature  of  the 
case  must  be  one  of  the  oldest  studies  of  mankind,  was  the 
most  backward,  and  only  the  work  of  the  last  three  centuries 
has  raised  it  to  the  level  of  a  true  science.  Dr.  Munger  makes 
the  following  comparisons :  "Aristotle  mapped  out  philosophy 
and  morals  in  lines  the  world  yet  accepts  in  the  main,  but  he 
did  not  know  the  difference  between  the  nerves  and  the 
tendons.  Rome  had  a  sound  system  of  jurisprudence  before 
it  had  a  physician,  .using  only  priestcraft  for  healing.  Cicero 
was  the  greatest  lawyer  the  world  has  seen,  but  there  was  not 
a  man  in  Rome  who  could  have  cured  him  of  a  colic.  The 
Greek  was  an  expert  dialectician  when  he  was  using  incanta- 
tions for  his  diseases.  As  late  as  when  the  Puritans  were 
enunciating  their  lofty  principles,  it  was  generally  held  that 
the  king's  touch  would  cure  scrofula.  Governor  Winthrop, 
of  colonial  days,  treated  'small-pox  and  all  fevers'  by  a  pow- 
der made  from  'live  toads  baked  in  an  earthen  pot  in  the 
open  air.'"2 

1  L.  Waldstein,  The  Subconscious  Self,  p.  164  /. 
'T.  Munger,  On  the  Threshold,  p.  126/. 


FAITH  CURE  199 

While  there  was  probably  some  advance  when  the  saints  of 
the  Church  usurped  the  place  of  the  zodiacal  constellations 
in  their  government  of  the  various  parts  of  the  human  body, 
the  saints  and  relics  have  proved  themselves  the  greatest 
enemies  to  the  advance  of  the  science  of  therapeutics.  As 
early  as  the  latter  part  of  the  fourth  century  "miraculous 
powers  were  ascribed  to  these  images  [of  Jesus  and  the  saints 
hung  in  the  churches]  and  legends  of  marvellous  cures  and 
wonderful  portents  were  related  of  them.  .  .  .  Their  [the 
saints]  intercessions  were  invoked,  especially  for  the  cure  of 
diseases,  and  if,  perchance,  help  seemed  to  come  to  anyone, 
he  hung  up  in  the  church  a  gold  or  silver  image  of  the  part 
which  had  been  healed.  .  .  .  Their  relics  began  to  work 
miracles." 1 

But  the  Middle  Ages  were  the  golden  days  of  superstition — 
golden  at  least  for  the  papacy.  Nothing  seemed  to  be  too 
extravagant  to  be  believed;  in  fact,  the  more  unreasonable 
the  statements  the  quicker  they  seemed  to  be  imbibed  by  the 
credulous  people.  "  Fragments,  purporting  to  have  been  cut 
from  it  [the  'true  cross'],  were,  in  the  eleventh  and  twelfth 
centuries,  to  be  found  in  almost  every  church  in  Europe,  and 
would,  if  collected  together  in  one  place,  have  been  almost 
sufficient  to  have  built  a  cathedral.  .  .  .  They  were  thought 
to  preserve  from  all  evils,  and  to  cure  the  most  inveterate  dis- 
eases. .  .  .  Next  in  renown  were  those  precious  relics,  the 
tears  of  the  Saviour.  By  whom  and  in  what  manner  they 
were  preserved,  the  pilgrims  did  not  enquire.  .  .  .  Tears  of 
the  Virgin  Mary,  and  tears  of  St.  Peter,  were  also  to  be  had, 
carefully  enclosed  in  little  caskets,  which  the  pious  might 
wear  in  their  bosoms.  After  the  tears  the  next  most  precious 
relics  were  drops  of  the  blood  of  Jesus  and  the  martyrs,  and  the 
milk  of  the  Virgin  Mary.  Hair  and  toe-nails  were  also  in 
great  repute,  and  were  sold  at  extravagant  prices.  .  .  .  Many 

1  G.  P.  Fisher,  History  0}  the  Christian  Church,  p.  117. 


200  FAITH  CURE 

a  nail,  cut  from  the  filthy  foot  of  some  unscrupulous  ecclesi- 
astic, was  sold  at  a  diamond's  price,  within  six  months  after 
its  severance  from  its  parent  toe,  upon  the  supposition  that 
it  had  once  belonged  to  a  saint  oran  apostle.  Peter's  toes  were 
uncommonly  prolific,  for  there  were  nails  enough  in  Europe, 
at  the  time  of  the  Council  of  Clermont,  to  have  filled  a  sack, 
all  of  which  were  devoutly  believed  to  have  grown  on  the 
sacred  feet  of  that  great  apostle.  Some  of  them  are  still 
shown  in  the  cathedral  of  Aix-la-Chapelle."  x 

"A  lucrative  trade  was  carried  on  in  iron  filings  from  the 
chains  with  which  it  was  claimed  that  Peter  and  Paul 
had  been  bound.  These  filings  were  regarded  by  Pope 
Gregory  I  as  efficacious  in  healing  as  were  the  bones  of  the 
martyrs."2 

The  absurdity  of  the  claims  of  some  of  these  remedies 
seems  not  to  have  appealed  to  the  people.  "Elias  Ashmole 
in  his  diary  for  1681  has  entered  the  following:  'I  tooke 
this  morning  a  good  dose  of  elixir,  and  hung  three  spiders 
about  my  neck,  and  they  drove  my  ague  away.  Deo 
gratias. '  .  .  .  We  have  even  a  striking  instance  of  the 
benefit  derived  from  an  amulet  by  a  horse,  who  could  not  be 
suspected  of  having  helped  forward  the  cure  by  the  strength 
of  his  faith  in  it.  'The  root  of  cut  Malowe  hanged  about 
the  neck  driveth  away  blemishes  of  the  eyen,  whether  it  be 
in  a  man  or  a  horse,  as  I,  Jerome  of  Brunsweig,  have  seene 
myself e.  I  have  myself e  done  it  to  a  blind  horse  that  I 
bought  for  X  crounes,  and  was  sold  agayn  for  XL  crounes' 
— a  trick  distinctly  worth  knowing."3 

Not  only  did  the  Church  assume  the  prerogative  of  healing, 
but  it  would  brook  no  interference  from  external  sources. 
All  diseases  contracted  by  Christians  were  ascribed  to  demons, 

1C  Mackay,  Extraordinary  Popular  Delusions,  II,  p.  303  /. 

s  J.  Moses,  Pathological  Aspects  0}  Religions,  pp.  132  ff. 

3E.  A.  King,  "Mediaeval  Medicine,"  Nineteenth  Century,  July,  1893. 


FAITH  CURE  201 

and  all  recourse  to  physicians  or  surgeons  was  discouraged 
or  forbidden.  Surgery  also  suffered  on  account  of  the  feeling 
against  dissections,  but  not  to  the  same  extent  as  therapeutics. 
Monks  who  took  medicine  were  guilty  of  irreligious  conduct, 
and  no  physician  was  allowed  to  treat  a  patient  without  re- 
ceiving ecclesiastical  advice;  the  penalty  for  a  breach  of  the 
latter  rule  was  exclusion  from  the  church.  "Pilgrimages 
and  visits  to  holy  shrines  have  usurped  the  place  of  medicine. 
...  St.  Dominic,  St.  Bellinus,  and  St.  Vitus  have  been  greatly 
renowned  in  the  cure  of  diseases  in  general."1  To  combat 
the  rising  science  of  medicine  the  Church  itself  developed  a 
ludicrous  system  of  therapeutics.  In  addition  to  this,  the 
body  was  supposed  to  be  made  undesirable  for  a  habitation 
for  the  demon  of  disease  by  administering  torture  and  all 
manner  of  vile  and  disgusting  doses.2 

"Even  such  serious  matters  as  fractures,  calculi,  and  diffi- 
cult parturition,  in  which  modern  science  has  achieved  some 
of  its  greatest  triumphs,  were  then  dealt  with  by  relics;  and 
to  this  hour  the  eocvotos  hanging  at  such  shrines  as  those  of 
St.  Genevieve  at  Paris,  of  St.  Antony  at  Padua,  of  the  Druid 
image  at  Chartres,  of  the  Virgin  at  Einsiedeln  and  Lourdes, 
of  the  fountain  at  La  Salette,  are  survivals  of  this  same  con- 
ception of  disease  and  its  cure.  So,  too,  with  a  multitude  of 
sacred  pools,  streams,  and  spots  of  earth."  3 

About  the  time  that  therapeutics  as  a  science  began  to 
shake  off  the  shackles  of  religion  and  superstition,  we  notice  a 
yet  more  startling  innovation,  viz.,  the  division  of  faith  cure 
into  religious  and  mental  healing.  The  change  undoubtedly 
came  gradually,   probably  stimulated  by  the  Zeitgeist,  of 

1  T.  J.  Pettigrew,  Superstitions  Connected  with  the  History  and  Prac- 
tice of  Medicine  and  Surgery,  p.  35. 

2  A.  D.  White,  History  oj  the  Warfare  of  Science  with  Theology,  II, 
p.  130. 

3  A.  D.  White,  ibid.,  II,  p.  42. 


202  FAITH  CURE 

which  the  increased  employment  of  drugs  was  another  indica- 
tion. The  new  theory  may  have  been  assisted  by  a  different 
opinion  regarding  the  king,  which  arose  about  this  time. 
The  office  of  king  was  formerly  considered  quasi  religious, 
but  was  more  and  more  outgrowing  any  idea  of  divine  signifi- 
cance. Touching  by  the  sovereign  for  the  amelioration  of 
king's  evil,  did,  no  doubt,  effect  many  cures.  The  routes  to 
be  travelled  by  royal  personages  were  usually  announced  be- 
forehand, and  the  sufferers  along  the  way  had  many  days  in 
which  to  cherish  the  expectation  of  healing,  in  itself  so  bene- 
ficial. Those  were  days  of  faith,  and  the  belief  in  the  divine 
right  of  kings  was  generally  accepted.  On  this  account  the 
touch  of  the  royal  hand  would  have  a  salutary  reaction,  and 
occasion  many  restorations. 

King.Pyrrhus  and  the  Emperor  Vespasian  are  said  to  have 
effected  cures.  Francis  I,  of  France,  and  other  kings  up  to 
Charles  X,  healed  by  the  imposition  of  hands.  Readers  of 
Macaulay's  History1  will  remember  that  when  William  III 
refused,  with  honest  good  sense,  to  exercise  the  power  which 
most  of  his  subjects  undoubtedly  thought  he  possessed,  many 
protests  were  made,  and  much  proof  was  adduced  concerning 
the  "balsamic  virtues  of  the  royal  hand."  Eminent  theolo- 
gians expressed  their  confidence  in  its  efficacy,  and  the 
most  learned  surgeons  of  the  day  certified  to  the  rapidity 
and  prevalence  of  the  cures.  Charles  II  in  the  course  of 
his  reign  touched  nearly  one  hundred  thousand  persons; 
and  James  in  one  of  his  progresses  touched  eight  hun- 
dred persons  in  Chester  Cathedral.2  The  refusal  of  Wil- 
liam to  continue  the  practice  of  touching  brought  upon  him 
the  charge  of  cruelty  from  the  parents  of  scrofulous  children, 

'T.  B.  Macaulay,  History  oj  England,  III,  pp.  378-381. 

2W.  B.  Carpenter,  Mental  Physiology,  p.  686.  W.  E.  H.  Lecky, 
History  oj  European  Morals,  I,  pp.  363  ft.;  A.  D.  White,  History  0}  the 
Warfare  oj  Science  with  Theology,  II,  pp.  46-49. 


FAITH  CURE  203 

while  bigots  lifted  up  their  hands  and  eyes  in  holy  horror  at 
his  impiety. 

Within  the  last  half  century  we  have  had  an  example  of 
the  value  of  a  royal  touch.  When  cholera  was  raging  in 
Naples  in  1865,  and  the  people  were  rushing  from  the  city  by 
thousands,  King  Victor  Emanuel  went  the  rounds  of  the 
hospital  in  an  endeavor  to  stimulate  courage  in  the  hearts 
of  his  people.  He  lingered  at  the  bedside  of  the  patients  and 
spoke  encouraging  words  to  them.  On  a  cot  lay  one  man 
already  marked  for  death.  The  king  stepped  to  his  side, 
and  pressing  his  damp,  icy  hand,  said,  "Take  courage, 
poor  man,  and  try  to  recover  soon."  That  evening  the 
physicians  reported  to  the  king  a  diminution  of  the  disease 
in  the  course  of  the  day,  and  the  man  marked  for  death, 
out  of  danger.  The  king  had  unconsciously  performed  a 
miracle.1 

It  may  have  been  through  the  observation  of  these  cures 
which  the  king  worked,  and  the  decreasing  belief  in  any  re- 
ligious efficacy  in  the  royal  hand,  that  there  came  the  division 
between  religious  and  mental  healing,  or  we  may  have  to  credit 
it  to  the  keen  observation  of  certain  scientific  men  of  the  times. 
Paracelsus,  who  lived  during  the  first  half  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  wrote  these  shrewd  words,  "Whether  the  object  of 
your  faith  is  real  or  false,  you  will  nevertheless  obtain  the 
same  effects.  Thus,  if  I  believe  in  St.  Peter's  statue  as  I 
would  have  believed  in  St.  Peter  himself,  I  shall  obtain  the 
same  effects  that  I  would  have  obtained  from  St.  Peter;  but 
that  is  superstition.  Faith,  however,  produces  miracles,  and 
whether  it  be  true  or  false  faith,  it  will  always  produce  the 
same  wonders."  We  have  also  the  following  penetrating 
observation  from  Pierre  Ponponazzi  of  Milan,  an  author  of 
the  same  century.  "We  can  easily  conceive  the  marvellous 
effects  which  confidence  and  imagination  can  produce,  par- 

1  C.  L.  Tuckey,  Treatment  by  Hypnotism  and  Suggestion,  p.  30. 


204  FAITH  CURE 

ticularly  when  both  qualities  are  reciprocal  between  the 
subjects  and  the  person  who  influences  them.  The  cures 
attributed  to  the  influence  of  certain  relics  are  the  effect  of 
this  imagination  and  confidence.  Quacks  and  philosophers 
know  that  if  the  bones  of  any  skeleton  were  put  in  the  place 
of  the  saints'  bones,  the  sick  would  none  the  less  experience 
beneficial  effects,  if  they  believed  that  they  were  near  veritable 
relics."1  This  prophecy  has  since  proved  true.  "When 
Prof.  Buckland,  the  eminent  osteologist  and  geologist,  dis- 
covered that  the  relics  of  St.  Rosalia  at  Palermo,  which  had 
for  ages  cured  disease  and  warded  off  epidemics,  were  the 
bones  of  a  goat,  this  fact  caused  not  the  slightest  diminution 
in  their  miraculous  power." 

However  mental  healing,  apart  from  religious  influence, 
originated,  it  exists  to-day,  and  is  established  firmly  on 
scientific  principles.  But  religious  healing  also  survives  and 
has  many  earnest  devotees.  As  the  latter  has  been  employed 
for  centuries  and  as  we  find  it  to-day,  three  different  classes 
may  be  designated.  There  are  those  who  use  the  formula 
of  James,  anoint  with  oil  and  pray,  lay  on  hands,  or  simply 
employ  prayer.  A  second  class  have  faith  in  a  visit  and 
sacrifice  at  different  shrines.  Others  believe  in  certain  per- 
sons as  healers.  Most  followers  of  Jesus  believe,  to  some 
extent,  in  the  efficacy  of  prayer,  but  probably  most  of  us  expect 
the  answer  by  indirect  means  and  employ  a  physician.  We 
are  familiar  with  this  class,  so  it  is  not  necessary  to  dwell 
longer  upon  it.  We  should  say,  however,  that  the  first  class, 
healing  by  prayer,  should  alone  be  classed  as  divine  healing. 
The  other  two  classes  are  religious,  trusting  in  saints  and 
healers,  but  not  directly  in  Deity. 

We  have  recorded  many  authentic  cures,  real  amid  a  multi- 
tude of  shams,  which  have  been  wrought  at  holy  places 
dedicated  to  various  saints  of  different  cults.     Throngs  of 

1  H.  Bernheim,  Suggestive  Therapeutics,  p.  192  /. 


FAITH  CURE  205 

pilgrims  wend  their  way  over  the  desert  to  Mecca,  crowds 
may  be  seen  journeying  to  the  sacred  rivers  and  temples  of 
India  or  to  the  shrines  of  Buddhist  hagiology,  and  not  a  few 
who  have  made  the  outward  journey  wearily  and  painfully, 
return  with  health  restored.  But  these  cures  are  not  re- 
stricted to  so-called  heathen  religions;  the  Christian  faith  has 
many  shrines.  One  can  scarcely  enter  a  cathedral  in  Europe 
where  some  cure  has  not  been  performed,  and  in  some, 
quantities  of  crutches  have  been  left  by  the  healed.  The 
shrine  of  the  Virgin  in  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  at 
Jerusalem  groans  with  the  gifts  of  grateful  persons  who  have 
there  been  helped.  The  miracles  performed  at  the  tomb  of 
the  Deacon  Paris  in  the  Cemetery  of  St.  Medard  have  already 
been  referred  to,  and  the  cures  of  the  sufferers  who  worship 
the  Holy  Coat  at  Treves  are  well  known.1 

The  two  shrines  best  known  and  which  have  proved  most 
efficacious  are  those  of  Lourdes  in  France,  and  St.  Anne  de 
Beaupre  in  the  province  of  Quebec.  Lourdes  owes  its  reputed 
healing  power  to  a  belief  in  a  vision  of  the  Virgin  received 
there  during  the  last  century.2  Over  300,000  persons  visit 
there  every  year,  and  no  small  portion  of  them  return  with 
health  restored  as  a  reward  for  their  faith.  At  Lourdes  and 
many  other  shrines  bathing  forms  a  part  of  the  ceremony, 
and  on  account  of  the  unsanitary  conditions  in  the  former 
place,  there  is  some  danger  that  the  French  government  will 
cause  its  abandonment.  Charcot,  who  established  the  Sal- 
petriere  hospital  where  hypnotism  was  so  successfully  used, 
sent  fifty  or  sixty  patients  to  Lourdes  yearly.  He  was  firmly 
convinced   of   the   healing   power   of   faith.    In   America, 

1  R.  F.  Clarke,  The  Holy  Coat  0}  Treves,  especially  pp.  38-40,  98- 
101. 

2  A.  T.  Myers  and  F.  W.  H.  Myers,  "Mind  Cure,  Faith  Cure,  and  the 
Miracles  of  Lourdes,"  Proceedings  of  the  Society  for  Psychical  Research, 
IX,  pp.  160-409.  J.  B.  Estrade,  Les  Apparitions  de  Lourdes:  Sou- 
venirs intimes  d'un  temoin. 


206  FAITH  CURE 

thousands  flock  to  the  shrine  of  St.  Anne  de  Beaupre  every 
year.  Here  are  to  be  found  bones,  supposed  to  be  the  wrist 
bones  of  the  saint,  and  many  sufferers  are  able  to  testify  to 
their  value  in  the  healing  of  diseases. 

The  third  class  of  believers  in  religious  healing  put  their 
faith  in  the  power  of  certain  men,  who,  they  think,  have  this 
divine  gift.  All  ages  have  witnessed  cures  performed  through 
this  agency,  and  each  century  has  had  its  great  apostle  of 
healing.  For  example,  in  the  seventeenth  century  Great- 
rakes,  the  noted  Irish  soldier  and  healer,  who  felt  that  he 
had  been  given  divine  healing  power,  had  what  seemed  to  be 
remarkable  success  in  touching  for  scrofula,  ague,  and  other 
diseases.  An  exhibition  before  the  king,  however,  proved  a 
failure.  In  the  eighteenth  century  Gassner,  a  Romanist 
priest,  thought  that  most  diseases  were  attributable  to  evil 
spirits,  whose  power  could  only  be  destroyed  by  conjuration 
and  prayer.  He  practised  on  his  parishioners  with  some 
success,  and  many  considered  his  cures  miraculous. 

Gassner  shared  eighteenth-century  honors  with  Frau 
Starke  of  Osterode,  who  performed  many  cures  through 
stroking  and  touching  the  patients'  bodies,  and  by  so-called 
charming.  The  greatest  name  in  religious  healing  in  the 
nineteenth  century  was  that  of  Prince  Hohenlohe,  a  Romanist 
priest.  He  aroused  much  attention  by  his  cures  in  Bavaria  in 
1 82 1.  Among  the  names  prominent  in  later  years  are  those 
of  Dr.  Vernon,  Joh.  Blumhardt,  and  the  Zouave  Jacob,  not  to 
mention  the  numerous  healers  who,  like  Schlatter,  Schroder, 
Newell,  or  Dowie,  acquire  meteoric  fame,  stir  up  a  newspaper 
commotion  and  sink  into  oblivion.  Not  a  few  revivalists 
have  incidentally  become  healers.  We  have  already  seen 
Wesley  in  the  role  of  an  exorcist,  Finney  tells  of  healing  an 
insane  woman  at  Antwerp,1  and  George  Fox  cured  a  lame 
arm  by  command. 

1  Memoirs  0}  Rev.  Charles  G.  Finney  written  by  himself,  p.  108  /. 


FAITH  CURE  207 

The  divorce  of  mental  from  religious  healing  was  a  slow 
process.  As  already  mentioned,  Paracelsus  taught  that  the 
faith  of  the  patient,  not  the  object,  was  the  principal  factor 
in  healing.  This  is  the  recognized  position  of  psychology 
to-day,  but  for  three  centuries  a  theory,  now  known  to  be 
erroneous,  held  the  minds  of  the  investigators.  Von  Helmont 
taught  that  men  possessed  a  power  over  others,  especially  the 
sick,  and  in  1600  Maxwell  proclaimed  a  similar  theory.  A 
century  later,  in  1700,  Santanelli  in  Italy  asserted  a  like  propo- 
sition.1 Mesmer,  who  more  than  any  one  else  drew  the 
world's  attention  to  mental  healing,  believed  the  same  thing, 
and  posited  a  magnetic  fluid  which  passed  between  the  opera- 
tor and  the  subject  and  accomplished  the  wonderful  results. 
His  great  success  so  attracted  the  attention  of  thinking  men 
that  a  committee  was  appointed  to  investigate  the  matter,  of 
whom  our  Benjamin  Franklin  was  one.  The  committee 
reported  favorably  and  the  work  continued. 

An  English  physician  by  the  name  of  Braid  was  really  the 
founder  of  hypnotism  as  a  science.  He  investigated  the  sub- 
ject in  1 841,  and  to  him  we  are  indebted  for  the  name  hypno- 
tism. While  hypnotism  and  mesmerism  are  identical  in 
meaning,  the  use  of  the  terms  usually  implies  a  theory: 
Mesmerism,  that  propagated  by  Mesmer  of  an  influence  or 
fluid  passing  from  the  operator  to  the  subject;  Hypnotism, 
that  of  modern  psychologists  that  the  power  is  not  of  one  per- 
son over  another,  but  that  of  one's  mind  over  his  own  body. 
Hypnotism  stands  to-day  as  the  most  scientifically  and 
thoroughly  investigated  phase  of  mental  healing,  and  is  much 
and  favorably  used  in  Europe,  where  men  like  Leibault, 
Bernheim,  Tuckey,  Wetterstrand,  Moll,  Forel,  and  others 
have  used  it  with  such  wonderful  success  that  it  takes  its 
proper  place  alongside  of  other  methods  of  therapeutics,  all 
physicians  recognizing  its  value.     Unfortunately  for  it  as  a 

1  A.  Moll,  Hypnotism,  p.  5. 


208  FAITH  CURE 

science,  and  for  us  as  sufferers,  it  has,  in  this  country,  paid 
the  penalty  of  bad  companionship.  Here  it  is  principally  used 
by  entertainers  and  charlatans,  or  brought  into  ill  repute  by 
teaching  courses  which  are  sold  and  bartered  about  the 
country,  as  a  means  of  acquiring  a  few  dollars.  Both  hyp- 
notic entertainments  and  teaching  to  irresponsible  persons 
should  be  prohibited  by  law.  It  is  no  wonder  that  our  people 
generally  eschew  it  and  brand  it  as  a  fraud ! 

Having  glanced  at  an  epitome  of  the  history  of  faith  cure, 
we  shall  look  now  at  the  psychological  theory  underlying  it. 
Every  person  who  observes  his  experience  will  easily  recognize 
two  relationships.  The  first  is  the  power  and  influence  of 
the  body  over  the  mind ;  the  second  is  the  power  and  influence 
of  the  mind  over  the  body — they  are  reciprocal  in  their  action. 
Of  the  first,  which  is  an  important  fact  in  our  lives,  we  have 
nothing  further  to  say  here;  the  second,  however,  is  the  basis 
of  faith-cure.  We  have  all  doubtless  paid  sufficient  attention 
to  our  ordinary  experience  to  call  to  mind  many  illustrations. 
For  example,  we  know  of  the  effects  of  emotion  upon  the 
body,  especially  in  the  redistribution  of  the  blood  supply, 
blushing,  flushing,  or  blanching,  as  shame,  joy,  or  fear  takes 
possession  of  us;  the  shiver  which  runs  down  our  backs  as 
we  think  of  the  shrill  shriek  of  rubbing  metals;  the  yawn 
which  is  so  contagious;  or  the  feeling  of  nausea  which  ac- 
companies the  perception  of  odors  similar  to  those  present 
when  we  were  seasick.  We  hear  what  fear  suggests  or  what 
is  joyfully  anticipated,  we  feel  much  that  we  expect  to 
feel. 

We  must  further  recognize  that  this  power  of  the  mind  over 
the  body  may  work  in  a  twofold  manner;  the  body  may  be 
injured  by  fear,  anger,  imagined  disease,  or  thinking  much 
about  a  slight  ailment,  but  in  dealing  with  faith-cure  it  is  the 
opposite  side  with  which  we  have  to  do,  viz.,  the  beneficial 
effects  of  mental  states  upon  certain  diseases.    When  we 


FAITH  CURE  209 

consider  that  most  diseases  have  a  large  mental  factor,  then 
it  is  natural  to  conclude  that  certain  mental  states  should  have 
a  salutary  influence.  All  functional  diseases,  diseases  where 
the  organ  is  uninjured,  and  where  there  is  simply  a  derange- 
ment of  function,  are  principally  nervous  in  their  character, 
a'nd  the  proper  mental  influence  will  cure  them.  Such  a 
disease  as  indigestion  is  a  disorder  of  the  functions  of  the 
digestive  apparatus.  Common  mental  states,  as,  e.  g.,  worry, 
may  produce  this,  while  the  opposite  mental  states,  joy  and 
happiness,  tend  to  cure  it.  There  is  a  real  relation  between 
laughing  and  growing  fat ;  the  man  with  indigestion  is  morose 
and  cranky;  it  may  be  that  the  indigestion  causes  the  mental 
state,  but  it  is  just  as  probable  that  the  mental  state  causes  the 
indigestion. 

Pain  is  a  mental  state.  The  bruised  finger  or  the  aching 
tooth  does  not  pain,  the  mind  feels  the  pain  which  experience 
has  taught  it  to  localize  in  different  parts  of  the  body.  Now, 
there  is  no  difference  between  having  pain  and  thinking  we 
have  it,  or  having  no  pain  and  thinking  we  have  none.  If  we 
have  pain  and  can  think  we  have  none,  we  get  rid  of  it.  Per- 
sistent pain,  however,  is  difficult  to  think  away.  Or  if  we 
can  set  our  minds  upon  something  different  with  sufficient 
force,  the  pain  is  not  felt.  The  mind  can  readily  attend  to 
only  one  thing  at  a  time,  and  if  filled  with  other  matters  the 
pain  is  excluded.  The  sufferer  from  neuralgia  experiences 
no  pain  as  he  responds  to  the  fire  alarm,  and  the  toothache 
stops  entirely  as  we  undergo  the  excitement  and  fear  of  enter- 
ing the  dentist's  office.  Some  people  are  more  suggestible 
than  others,  and  suggestion,  whether  in  normal  or  in  abnormal 
states,  is  more  effective  with  them. 

Suggestion  works  upon  the  subconsciousness.  In  normal 
states  the  suggestions  must  be  made  indirectly  so  as  not  to 
have  the  distraction  of  continued  perception.  Apparently 
that  which  slips  by  consciousness  unnoticed  is  most  effective 


2io  FAITH  CURE 

with  the  subconsciousness.  Trustful  expectation  in  any  one 
direction  acts  powerfully  through  the  subconsciousness,  be- 
cause it  absorbs  the  whole  mind,  and  thus  competition  is 
excluded.  It  is  this  which  acts  in  faith-cure,  although  some 
abnormal  conditions  may  also  arise  to  assist  the  suggestion. 

The  question  of  whether  or  not  there  is  ever  divine  power 
manifested  in  faith-cure,  will  be  dealt  with  in  our  analysis  of 
prayer.1  Suffice  it  to  say  here,  that  divine  manifestation 
would  not  be  inconsistent  with  what  has  been  said  concerning 
the  subconsciousness.  The  subconsciousness  corresponds  to 
that  part  of  the  mind  which  the  old  writers  designated  as  the 
''heart,"  and  is  the  religious  clearing  house.  While  we  speak 
of  the  cures  coming  through  the  subconsciousness  at  all  times, 
whether  the  power  back  of  it  is  human  or  divine,  is  an  entirely 
separate  question.  You  will  recall  a  distinction  already  made ; 
the  cures  brought  about  by  shrines  and  healers  are  not  classed 
under  divine,  but  under  religious  healing;  prayer  alone  is  the 
medium  of  divine  healing. 

That  this  confident  expectation  of  a  cure  is  the  most  potent 
means  of  bringing  it  about,  doing  that  which  no  medical 
treatment  can  accomplish,  may  be  affirmed  as  the  generalized 
result  of  experiences  of  the  most  varied  kind,  extending 
through  a  long  series  of  ages.  It  is  this  factor  which  is  com- 
mon to  methods  of  the  most  diverse  character.  It  is  notice- 
able that  any  system  of  treatment,  however  absurd,  that  can 
be  puffed  into  public  notoriety  for  efficacy,  any  individual 
who  by  accident  or  design  obtains  a  reputation  for  the  pos- 
session of  a  special  gift  of  healing,  is  certain  to  attract  a 
multitude  of  sufferers  among  whom  will  be  many  who  are 
capable  of  being  really  benefited  by  a  strong  assurance  of 
relief.  Thus,  the  practitioner  with  a  great  reputation  has  an 
advantage  over  his  neighboring  physicians,  not  only  on 
account  of  the  superior  skill  which  he  may  have  acquired,  but 

1  See  Divine  Healing  under  the  Lens,  by  "A  Berean." 


FAITH  CURE  211 

because  his  reputation  causes  this  confident  expectation,  so 
beneficial  in  itself. 

We  must  include  under  this  head  the  therapeutic  value  in 
patent  medicines.  Most  patent  medicines  contain  little  else, 
in  the  nature  of  drugs  of  any  power  for  good  or  evil,  than 
alcohol,  the  percentage  of  the  latter  ranging  from  ten  to  fifty 
per  cent.;  and  yet  real  cures  are  recorded.  The  healing 
power  is  not  in  the  medicine  imbibed  by  the  mouth,  but  in  that 
taken  in  by  the  eyes;  in  other  words,  not  the  stuff  in  the  bottle, 
but  the  stuff  in  the  advertising  matter  is  the  real  medicine. 
The  suggestion  is  accentuated  by  the  exhilaration  immedi- 
ately following  the  imbibing  of  alcohol.  The  belief  in  some 
particular  medicine  or  physician  who  prescribes  the  medicine 
is  an  important  agent  in  the  healing.  If  sufficient  confidence 
in  the  power  of  a  concoction,  a  shrine,  or  a  person  can  be 
aroused,  genuine  cures  can  be  worked  regardless  of  the  healing 
properties  of  the  dose.1  Charms  have  as  much  power  for 
healing  as  belief  bestows  on  them.2 

The  successful  physician,  who  must  also  be  a  keen  observer, 
is  not  unmindful  of  this  fact.  He  knows  better,  even,  than 
we  that  suggestion  must  play  an  important  part  in  any  cure. 
When  the  physician  enters  the  house,  before  he  has  given  us 
medicine  or  even  seen  us,  we  feel  better.  We  have  faith  in 
him,  and  any  physician  in  whom  we  have  not  faith  will  find 
it  difficult  to  cure  us  of  the  most  simple  ailments.  He  knows 
that  there  are  but  few  drugs  upon  which  he  can  depend  for 
uniform  results,  and  that  frequently  a  result  directly  opposite 
to  the  customary  one,  is  brought  about  because  it  has  been  sug- 
gested in  some  way — the  expected  happens.  A  bread  pill, 
or  some  other  placebo,  has  had  astonishing  results,  and  es- 
tablished the  reputation  of  a  physician,  because  he  has  sug- 

1  G.  A.  Coe,  The  Spiritual  Life,  pp.  151-189. 

2  Proceedings  0}  the  Society  for  Psychical  Research,  VI,  p.  152.  H.  Wood, 
The  New  Thought  Simplified,  p.  119. 


2i2  FAITH  CURE 

gested  a  desired  end.  Sometimes  the  expectation  of  the  patient 
brings  about  results  that  are  as  humorous  as  happy.  Numer- 
ous examples  could  be  given,  but  one  will  suffice.  A  man 
with  paralysis  of  the  tongue  put  himself  under  the  care  of  a 
physician  who  had  recently  perfected  a  piece  of  apparatus, 
by  the  use  of  which  he  promised  and  hoped  to  effect  a  speedy 
cure.  Before  applying  the  apparatus  he  concluded  to  take 
the  man's  temperature  and  placed  the  thermometer  in  his 
mouth  for  that  purpose.  It  had  been  there  but  a  minute,  when 
the  man,  who  mistook  the  thermometer  for  the  new  appa- 
ratus, cried  out  joyfully  that  he  could  once  more  move  his 
tongue  freely.1 

Notwithstanding  that  we  know  the  large  part  which  sug- 
gestion plays  in  ordinary  therapeutics,  we  usually  employ  a 
physician,  and  are  willing  to  pay  for  the  suggestion,  being  con- 
fident that  if  it  should  do  less  good,  it  also  does  less  harm  than 
many  of  his  drugs.  It  is  noteworthy  that  many  suggestionists, 
unjustly  called  swindlers,  have  been  more  successful  than  many 
scientific  physicians.  Perhaps  all  have  had  experience  with 
wart  charmers  of  which  every  neighborhood  boasts  at 
least  one.  When  physicians  had  failed  to  remove  warts,  we 
went  to  the  old  man  or  old  woman,  held  out  our  wart-covered 
hands,  listened  to  an  incomprehensible  formula,  watched 
him  put  his  finger  on  his  tongue  and  then  on  the  wart.  We 
did  not  know  when,  but  the  wart  disappeared  never  to  return. 
Suggestion,  and  expectancy  brought  about  by  suggestion, 
explain  the  phenomenon. 

I  have  cited  these  examples  to  show  that  healing  wrought 
through  faith-cure,  hypnotism,  and  similar  means  is  not  very 
different  from  our  every-day  experiences.  Our  thoughts 
tend  to  express  themselves  in  action,  this  is  the  psychical  basis 
of  will.  The  law  of  faith-cure  is  also  built  upon  this  fact  and 
may  be  expressed  as  follows:  the  body  tends  to  adjust  itself 

1  H.  Bemheim,  Suggestive  Therapeutics,  p.  197  /. 


FAITH  CURE  213 

so  as  to  be  in  harmony  with  our  ideas  concerning  it.  How- 
ever the  thought  of  cure  may  come  into  our  minds,  either 
by  external  or  auto-suggestion,  if  it  is  firmly  rooted  so  as  to 
impress  the  subconsciousness,  that  part  of  the  mind  which 
rules  the  bodily  organs,  a  tendency  toward  cure  is  at  once  set 
up  and  continues  as  long  as  that  thought  has  the  ascendency. 
Hack  Tuke  quotes  Johannes  Miiller,  a  physiologist,  who 
lived  during  the  first  half  of  the  last  century,  as  follows: 
"It  may  be  stated  as  a  general  fact  that  any  state  of  body 
which  is  conceived  to  be  approaching,  and  which  is  expected 
with  certain  confidence  and  certainty  of  the  occurrence,  will 
be  very  prone  to  ensue,  as  the  mere  result  of  the  idea  if  it 
do  not  lie  beyond  the  bounds  of  possibility."1  This  is  also 
a  fair  statement  of  the  law,  but  notwithstanding  this  shrewd 
observation,  a  quarter  of  a  century  passed  before  much  or 
any  use  was  made  of  it  as  a  therapeutic  agent,  and  even  to- 
day, although  the  evidence  is  overwhelming,  some  people 
look  upon  it  as  a  superstition. 

1  D.  H.  Tuke,  The  Influence  0}  the  Mind  upon  the  Body,  etc.,  p.  36. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

CHRISTIAN  SCIENCE 

"For  there  is  nothing  either  good  or  bad,  but  thinking  makes  it  so." 

— Shakespeare. 

There  are  many  forms  of  faith-cure  extant  to-day,  all 
using  suggestion  in  some  way  to  effect  their  cures.  Mind- 
curers  and  mental  healers  employ  direct  suggestions,  while 
metaphysical  healers  and  Christian  Scientists  use  more  in- 
direct methods.1  The  last-named  form  of  cure  is  selected 
for  more  detailed  examination,  because  in  its  claims  it  is  re- 
ligious, its  method  is  most  indirect,  and  it  has  a  following 
which  cannot  be  disregarded. 

In  a  psychological  discussion  we  are  not  particularly  in- 
terested in  its  origin,  but  rather  in  its  developed  state.  It 
makes  little  difference  whether  Mrs.  Mary  A.  M.  Baker 
Glover  Patterson  Eddy  originated  her  system  as  she  claims, 
or  acquired  it  of  "Dr."  P.  P.  Quimby  of  Portland,  Maine, 
who  cured  her  of  some  chronic  nervous  disease  and  taught 
her  his  system.2  He  died  on  January  16, 1866,  she  announced 
her  system  in  1866.  Nor  are  we  concerned  with  the  affirma- 
tion that  the  first  edition  of  Science  and  Health  exhibited 
marked  illiteracy  and  many  more  serious  errors,  and  that  a 
masterly  hand  has  since  reconstructed  it.  As  literature  it  is 
still  a  mass  of  hodge-podge.     It  is  significant,  however,  that 

1 H.  Miinsterberg,  Psychology  and  Mysticism,  Atlantic  Monthly, 
Jan.,  1899. 

*  G.  Milmine,  Mary  Baker  G.  Eddy,  McClure's  Magazine,  1907  and 
1908. 

214 


CHRISTIAN  SCIENCE  215 

the  rise  of  this  cult  was  contemporaneous  with  the  revival  of 
and  the  scientific  attention  to  hypnotism  and  mental  thera- 
peutics.1 

Christian  Science  has  been  the  subject  of  much  investigation 
and  has  inspired  a  great  variety  of  opinions.  Notice  the 
following  comprehensive  summary:  "Again,  so-called  Chris- 
tian Science  is  forming  in  the  United  States  to-day  an  almost 
equally  grotesque  mixture  of  crude  pantheism,  misunder- 
stood psychological  and  philosophical  truths,  and  truly 
Christian  beliefs  and  conceptions."2  This  statement,  recog- 
nizing as  it  does  truth  and  error,  good  and  evil,  is  worthy  of 
the  widest  publication. 

This  sect  has  gathered  into  its  fold  a  large  number,  many  of 
whom  are  intellectual  people.  What  has  attracted  its  vo- 
taries? They  may  be  divided  into  two  classes,  according 
to  the  motives  which  have  inspired  their  acceptance  of  this 
system.  The're  are  those  who,  in  antagonism  to  the  gross 
materialism  of  the  past,  have  accepted  the  philosophy  of  the 
system,  and  look  at  the  cures  only  as  proof  of  the  philosophi- 
cal position.  Any  person  who  consistently  and  tenaciously 
holds  to  subjective  idealism  is  rather  difficult  to  dislodge, 
and  this  task  we  shall  have  to  pass  over  to  the  philosopher, 
as  it  lies  outside  of  our  present  sphere. 

The  members  of  the  second  class  seek  the  cure  and  are 
willing  to  take  the  philosophical  dose  in  order  to  accomplish 
it.  They  neither  understand  nor  relish  this  method  of  treat- 
ment, but  if  it  will  furnish  relief  they  are  willing  to  accept  it. 
The  task  of  approaching  this  class  must  rest  with  the  psy- 
chologist, and  we  first  ask  what  attracts  them  and  how  can 
we  negate  this  attraction?  The  people  are  not  attracted  by 
the  errors  of  the  doctrine,  but  by  the  truth  incorporated  in  it. 
"The  remedy  for  the  delusion  is  the  discovery  of  the  truth, 

1  G.  A.  Coe,  The  Spiritual  Life,  p.  191. 

1  G.  T.  Ladd,  Philosophy  0}  Religion,  I,  p.  167. 


2i6  CHRISTIAN  SCIENCE 

not  the  indiscriminate  condemnation  of  both  truth  and  error 
as  an  unadulterated  lie."1  Some  persons  have  condemned 
indiscriminately,  and  others  have  tried  to  combat  Christian 
Science  by  denying  the  alleged  cures.  This  is  unfortunate,  for 
the  positive  evidence  is  abundant  and  trustworthy,  and  the 
cures  well  within  the  scope  of  ordinary  faith-cure.  If  we  dis- 
pose of  the  cures  by  dogmatically  denying  them,  we  take  the 
same  position  as  does  the  Christian  Scientist  regarding  disease, 
and  neither  ground  is  tenable.  Christian  Science  is  only  too 
willing  to  be  judged  by  its  cures,  and  scoffing  at  these  will 
only  bring  them  more  prominently  before  the  public.  It  is  also 
futile  to  endeavor  to  annihilate  it  by  denunciation,  or  by  ex- 
posing the  absurdity  of  the  philosophy  upon  which  it  rests. 
So  long  as  there  are  practical  results  in  the  form  of  therapeutic 
effects,  this  class  cares  little  for  the  denunciation  and  less  for 
the  philosophy. 

As  a  system  of  therapeutics,  Christian  Science  is  not  only 
tolerable,  but,  for  certain  ailments,  commendable,  if  it  could 
begin  and  end  there;  but  as  a  religion  it  is  preposterous.  If 
we  could  have  the  therapeutics  without  the  religion,  all  would 
be  well,  but  unfortunately  the  latter  is  an  important  part  of  the 
therapeutics;  without  the  aid  of  the  religion  it  would  be  lack- 
ing in  the  principal  factor  designed  to  bring  about  the  ex- 
pectancy so  necessary  to  the  cure,  for,  as  with  all  forms  of 
religious  healing,  it  points  the  mind  to  an  inexhaustible  sup- 
ply of  beneficent  power.  "The  most  deep-seated  form  of 
belief  is  religious  faith,  and  there  cannot  be  the  slightest  doubt 
that  religious  emotion,  from  the  lowest  fetishism  to  the  high- 
est Protestantism,  has  always  been  fertile  soil  for  therapeutic 
suggestions."  When  a  believer  associates  the  Deity  with 
his  idea  of  cure,  he  is  accustomed  to  expect  it  to  be  sudden 
and  complete,  as  the  result  of  a  definite  religious  manifestation; 
this  in  fact  often  occurs. 

1  Truth  and  Error  in  Christian  Science,  Outlook,  June  23,  1906. 


CHRISTIAN  SCIENCE  217 

Yes,  for  certain  ailments  its  therapeutics  is  commendable, 
and  the  same  can  be  said  of  other  forms  of  faith-cure,  but  for 
certain  ailments  only.  Like  the  patent  medicine  it  makes 
no  diagnosis,  and  consequently  fails  to  distinguish  between 
the  curable  and  the  incurable.  It,  therefore,  prescribes  the 
same  dose  for  all  persons,  regardless  of  age  or  of  chronicity, 
and  for  all  complaints.  It  is  dangerous  in  one  further  respect : 
it  condemns  all  medical  science  and  discourages  all  forms  of 
cure  except  its  own.  The  effect  of  mind  on  body  (?)  is 
recognized,  but  the  complementary  effect,  that  of  body  on 
mind,  of  which  we  are  equally  confident,  is  not  admitted, 
for  body,  apart  from  "mortal  mind,"  does  not  exist. 

Of  course,  Christian  Science  cannot  cure  everything,  and 
its  attempt  to  do  so  must  result  in  many  failures;  but  there 
must  also  be  many  cures  to  counterbalance  the  failures,  for 
if  all  the  attempts  ended  disastrously  the  system  would  never 
have  started  and  could  not  be  continued.  The  reason  usually 
given  for  failure  is  "  lack  of  faith."  This  is  true  in  functional 
diseases,  for  it  means  nothing  else  than  that  the  patient  is 
not  a  susceptible  subject,  i.  e.,  that  he  is  not  suggestible.  In 
organic  cases  the  remedy  is  not  equal  to  the  task  set  for  it. 

I  wish  to  recall  two  statements  made  in  the  preceding  chap- 
ter which  have  a  bearing  on  this  subject.  The  first  is  this: 
There  is  no  difference  between  having  no  pain  and  thinking 
you  have  no  pain;  the  mental  states  are  exactly  the  same. 
The  Christian  Science  healer  sits  down  beside  the  patient 
and  endeavors  to  instil  into  his  mind  the  fact  that  pain  does 
not  exist,  therefore  he  can  have  no  pain,  or  as  Mrs.  Eddy 
expresses  it  in  her  Science  and  Health,  the  object  of  such 
treatment  is  "to  destroy  the  patient's  belief  in  his  physical 
condition."  She  further  advises_her  followers,  "mentally  con- 
tradict every  complaint  from  the  body."  If  she  can  succeed 
in  getting  the  patient  to  believe  in  the  non-existence  of  pain, 
the  pain  is  gone.     From  Science  and  Health  we  have  also 


218  CHRISTIAN  SCIENCE 

the  following  which  may  serve  to  elucidate  the  system,  "All 
disease  is  the  result  of  education,  and  can  carry  its  ill  effects  no 
further  than  mortal  mind  maps  out  the  way."  A  terse  state- 
ment illustrating  the  method  is  found  in  this  sentence,  "De- 
stroy fear  and  you  end  the  fever." 

The  Christian  Scientist  has  seized  upon  a  fact  which  is 
well  known  to  the  medical  profession,  and  has  benefited  by 
its  practical  application.  It  is  no  secret  that  doubt,  worry, 
and  fear  are  depressing,  that  they  aggravate  all  diseases,  and 
are  predisposing  causes  of  various  functional  disorders. 
On  the  other  hand,  there  is  an  efficacy  about  courage,  hope, 
and  faith,  which  defies  analysis  by  the  physician  who  trusts 
only  in  drugs.  A  Don't-Worry  Club  would  be  a  valuable 
adjunct  to  a  quarantine  station,  for  fear  of  a  contagious  dis- 
ease is  the  most  certain  method  of  contracting  it. 

What  the  Christian  Scientist  affirms  concerning  disease 
is  also  stated  regarding  sin,  for  both  physical  and  moral  evil 
are  classed  together  in  a  wholesale  negation.  "Christian 
Science,  so-called,  the  sect  of  Mrs.  Eddy,  is  the  most  radical 
branch  of  mind-cure  in  its  dealings  with  evil.  For  it  evil 
is  simply  a  lie,  and  any  one  who  mentions  it  is  a  liar.  The 
optimistic  ideal  of  duty  forbids  us  to  pay  it  the  compliment 
even  of  explicit  attention.  Of  course,  .  .  .  this  is  a  bad 
speculative  omission,  but  it  is  intimately  linked  with  the 
practical  merits  of  the  system  we  are  examining.  Why  re- 
gret a  philosophy  of  evil,  a  mind-curer  would  ask  us,  if  I  can 
put  you  in  possession  of  a  life  of  good?"1 

While  all  forms  of  faith-cure  aim  at  the  same  result  the 
methods  differ.  Both  hypnotic  operator  and  Christian  Science 
healer  seek  to  alleviate  or  remove  pain  and  disease  by  im- 
pressing the  mind  of  the  sufferer,  the  one  by  truthfully  recog- 
nizing the  existence  of  the  trouble  and  endeavoring  to  bring 
about  mental  states  which  cure  it,  the  other  by  untruthfully 

1  W.  James,  The  Varieties  of  Religions  Experience,  p.  106  /. 


CHRISTIAN  SCIENCE  219 

insisting  that  it  does  not  and  cannot  exist.  Both  are  success- 
ful at  times.  The  whole  system  of  suggestive  therapeutics 
may  be  divided  into  two  classes  on  this  basis.  What  we  may 
designate  as  metaphysical  cure  denies  that  either  matter  or 
evil  exists,  and  heals  by  inspiring  the  belief  that  the  disease 
cannot  assail  the  patient  because  he  is  pure  spirit;  the  other 
class,  faith-cure,  recognizes  the  disease,  but  cures  by  faith 
in  the  power  of  Divinity,  persons,  objects,  or  suggestion.1 

The  other  expression  which  I  wish  to  recall  is  that  sug- 
gestive therapeutics  of  any  and  every  kind  is  efficacious  for 
one  class  of  diseases,  viz.,  the  functional  ones.  Where  the 
organ  is  affected,  as  in  a  honeycombed  kidney  or  a  de- 
stroyed lung,  the  disease  is  called  organic,  and  suggestion,  ex- 
cept in  incipient  cases  and  in  an  indirect  way,  can  render  no 
aid.  Mrs.  Eddy  declares  that  she  has  cured  such  diseases 
"as  readily  as  purely  functional  diseases,"  but  it  is  in  at- 
tempting to  treat  cases  of  this  kind  that  Christian  Scientists 
have  fallen  into  trouble.  Mrs.  Eddy,  in  Science  and  Health, 
makes  the  following  statement  which  is  an  admission  of 
weakness  and  would  apply  as  well  to  other  parts  of  her  sys- 
tem. "But  it  would  be  foolishness  to  venture  beyond  our 
present  understanding,  foolish  to  stop  eating,  until  we  gain 
more  goodness  and  a  clearer  comprehension  of  the  living  God." 
We  also  have  the  following  from  the  same  source:  "Until  the 
advancing  age  admits  the  efficacy  and  the  supremacy  of  Mind, 
it  is  better  to  leave  the  adjustment  of  broken  bones  and  dis- 
locations to  the  fingers  of  the  surgeon,  while  you  confine  your- 
self chiefly  to  mental  reconstruction,  and  the  prevention  of 
inflammation  and  protracted  confinement."  If  the  reports  of 
the  daily  press  are  to  be  relied  upon,  recently  another  sign 
of  retraction  has  come  from  the  oracle  of  Concord.     It  is  to 

1  A.  T.  Myers  and  F.  W.  H.  Myers,  Mind  Cure,  Faith  Cure,  and  the 
Miracles  at  Lourdes,  Proceedings  of  the  Society  for  Psychical  Research, 
IX,  p.  160  /. 


22o  CHRISTIAN  SCIENCE 

the  effect  that  organic  diseases  must  not  be  treated  by  the 
healers,  until  the  world  becomes  better  educated  to  receive 
her  revelation.  This  is  wise,  for  the  healers  have  been  ar- 
rested, tried,  and  convicted  for  their  failure  and  criminal 
negligence  in  not  seeking  other  aid  in  such  cases.  Functional 
diseases  they  cure  as  other  faith-curers  do,  organic  diseases  in 
advanced  stages,  never.  This  latest  order  from  Mrs.  Eddy 
is  a  virtual  admission  of  incompetency  in  organic  diseases, 
and  puts  Christian  Science,  by  its  own  stated  position,  on  a 
par  with  other  forms  of  faith-cure. 

There  are  not  a  few  other  systems  of  healing  which  vie 
with  Christian  Science,  not  in  the  magnitude,  but  in  the 
credulity  of  their  followers.  For  example,  let  me  refer  to  a 
monthly  publication  called  Unity.  The  copy  which  I  have 
in  hand  is  that  for  February,  1906.  One  of  the  leaves  of 
this  publication  is  of  red  paper,  and  in  addition  to  elaborate 
instructions  for  its  use  given  by  the  editor,  the  sheet  has 
printed  on  it  the  following:  "This  sheet  has  been  treated  by 
the  Society  of  Silent  Unity,  after  the  manner  mentioned  in 
Acts  19:11,  12.  Disease  will  depart  from  those  who  repeat 
silently,  while  holding  this  in  hand,  the  words  printed  hereon." 
In  addition  to  these  instructions  we  find  these  words:  "Af- 
firmation for  Strength  and  Power.  February  20th  to 
March  20th.  (Held  daily  at  9  :oo  p.m.)  The  Strength  and 
Power  of  Divine  Mind  are  now  established  in  the 
Midst  of  Me;  and  shall  go  no  more  out.  Affirmation 
for  Prosperity.  (Held  daily  at  12  m.)  The  Riches  of  the 
Lord-Christ  are  now  poured  out  upon  Me,  and  I  am 

SUPPLIED  WITH  EVERY  GOOD  THING." 

Near  the  end  of  the  publication  are  some  testimonials  to 
the  value  of  such  suggestions.  I  choose  three  of  them. 
"While  holding  the  Red  Leaf  between  my  hands  it  caused 
vibrations  through  my  whole  system,  and  rheumatic  pains 
that  I  was  troubled  with  disappeared  as  if  by  magic. — 


CHRISTIAN  SCIENCE  221 

M.  T.  R."  "Your  Red  Sheet  of  November  I  used  in  treat- 
ing my  sister  for  appendicitis,  and  also  for  myself  for  sore 
throat.  With  the  December  one  I  treated  myself  for  sore 
throat  and  bronchitis,  with  wonderful  results  in  both  and  in 
all  cases. — L.  V.  D."  "Your  treatments  for  prosperity 
have  done  us  so  much  good,  and  we  are  feeling  more  pros- 
perous, which  will  open  the  way  to  our  receiving  more. 
Since  our  treatments  our  chickens  have  laid  better,  the  food 
goes  further,  and  our  whole  living  seems  easier. — A.  M.  L." 
It  is  to  be  expected  that  so  long  as  the  chickens  and  people  re- 
spond so  readily  to  the  most  naive  and  crass  forms  of  sug- 
gestion, there  will  always  be  found  those  willing  to  give  the 
suggestions  for  a  consideration. 

I  have  presented  this  on  account  of  its  similarity  to  Christian 
Science;  since  it  shows  that  suggestions  may  be  readily  given 
through  the  distribution  of  literature,  and  also  because  it 
shows  the  efficacy  of  such  suggestions.  Of  course  each 
system  claims  to  have  the  only  true  method.  Mrs.  Eddy 
devotes  a  portion  of  Science  and  Health  to  presenting  a  theory 
of  hypnotism,  which  has  been  exploded  for  decades  far  more 
effectively  than  she  could  do  it,  and  then  proceeds  to  anni- 
hilate it.  No  one  claims  that  Mrs.  Eddy  uses  hypnotism, 
but  suggestion  is  the  key-note  of  both  methods.  Thus 
it  is — the  mind-curer  pities  the  deceived  pilgrim  of  Lourdes, 
and  both  despise  the  charms  and  fetishes  of  the  African 
savage.  Cain  turns  against  Abel,  he  acknowledges  no  re- 
lationship. 

By  its  optimistic  attitude,  Christian  Science  cheers  and 
uplifts  the  sick,  which  in  itself  is  a  valuable  remedial  agent. 
In  this  it  is  very  similar  to  the  so-called  New  Thought,  as 
expounded  by  Dresser,  Wood,  Trine,  Fletcher,  and  others. 
Optimism  and  a  joyful  atmosphere  are  enjoined  upon  all  the 
followers,  and  by  the  constancy  of  this  mood,  sickness  is 
eluded,  and  health  and  happiness  reign.     The  New  Thought 


222  CHRISTIAN  SCIENCE 

publications  are  interesting  and  not  unwholesome  reading. 
Absent  treatment,  given  by  Christian  and  other  healers,  is 
but  another  form  of  external  or  auto-suggestion,  and  does 
not  differ  in  principle  from  the  kinds  already  mentioned. 

Our  attitude  toward  Christian  Science  should  be  that  of 
admitting  the  cures,  but  recognizing  the  method ;  and  the  only 
way  of  combating  this  part  of  the  teaching  is  by  explanation, 
not  by  denial  or  scoffing.  When  we  approach  the  theory 
of  Christian  Science  we  find  a  conglomeration  of  quasi- 
metaphysical  affirmations  together  with  a  professed  interpre- 
tation of  the  Scriptures.  These  must  be  dealt  with  by  the 
philosopher  and  the  theologian,  so  we  leave  the  subject  to 
them  at  this  point. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE   MIRACLES 

"There  are  more  things  in  heaven  and  earth,  Horatio,  than  are 
dreamt  of  in  your  philosophy." — Shakespeare. 

The  devout  Romanist  and  the  follower  of  Mrs.  Eddy 
probably  consider  the  two  preceding  chapters  iconoclastic, 
on  account  of  the  attempt  to  reduce  to  psychological  terms 
the  events  which  to  them  have  a  miraculous  or  metaphysical 
significance.  To  be  consistent  they  wish  to  know  what  we  are 
to  do  with  the  miracles  of  the  New  Testament.  It  is  not 
our  purpose  to  dodge  the  issue,  for  we  are  searching  for  truth, 
and  "truth  at  any  price "  is  our  motto.  Let  us  consider  these 
miracles  and  see  if  they,  too,  fit  into  the  psychological  laws 
of  suggestive  therapeutics.  To  be  fair  we  must  take  the 
accounts  as  we  find  them,  and  not  accept  those  which  suit 
our  purpose  and  reject  or  change  those  which  appear  to  stand 
outside  of  the  laws.  If  one  is  untrustworthy  simply  because 
it  does  not  fit  our  theory,  the  others  are  not  to  be  taken 
simply  because  they  do.  With  this  understanding  we  will 
proceed.  Of  course,  no  one  supposes  that  the  gospel 
accounts  contain  wholly  accurate  and  complete  details  of  the 
miracles,  since  careful  precision  in  recording  facts  is  a  some- 
what recent  accomplishment. 

In  a  study  of  the  miracles  performed  by  Jesus  and  the 
apostles,  one  noticeable  feature  is  the  large  number  of  them 
which  have  to  do  with  the  bodies  of  men.  We  have  a  record 
of  thirty-four  miracles  performed  by  Jesus  and  fourteen  by 
the   apostles,   forty-eight   in   all.     Of   these,    twenty-six   of 

223 


224  THE  MIRACLES 

Jesus'  are  miracles  of  healing,  and  eight  deal  with  other 
things.  Of  those  performed  by  the  apostles,  all  are  con- 
cerned with  human  bodies.  That  is,  of  forty-eight  miracles 
performed  by  Jesus  and  the  apostles,  no  less  than  forty — 
eighty-three  per  cent,  of  the  whole — were  performed  on 
human  bodies.  This  may  seem  very  natural  from  one 
standpoint,  when  we  consider  that  Jesus'  mission  here  was 
with  people,  and  the  tender  heart  of  Jesus  would  be  touched 
by  the  sufferings  of  those  around  Him,  inciting  Him  to  help 
them;  but  in  the  light  of  the  cures  performed  through  the  me- 
dium of  suggestion,  it  may  be  interesting  to  inquire,  at  least, 
concerning  the  possibility  of  the  use  of  this  method  by  Jesus 
and  the  apostles. 

We  have  two  questions  to  ask  in  presenting  this  subject 
in  order  that  we  may  be  able  to  determine  the  value  of  such 
an  inquiry.  The  first  is  this:  In  the  event  of  such  an  hy- 
pothesis being  accepted,  would  it  do  away  with  the  distinctive 
character  and  value  of  the  miracles?  If  it  is  affirmed  that 
the  method  used  by  Jesus  and  His  apostles  is  in  use  to-day 
for  healing,  would  the  miraculous  character  of  the  miracles 
be  annulled  ?  If  we  are  able  partially  to  explain  the  miracles, 
do  they  cease  to  be  miracles?  Our  answer  to  this  question 
would  undoubtedly  be  "No."  In  the  first  place,  the  es- 
sential factor  in  the  idea  of  miracle  is  the  psychological 
effect.  Anything  which  causes  wonder  and  astonishment 
on  account  of  the  inexplicable  character  of  the  phenomena 
by  known  facts  would  be  a  miracle.  A  trolley  car  or  wire- 
less telegraphy  would  have  been  as  great  a  miracle  in  Jesus' 
day  as  stilling  the  tempest  or  raising  the  dead.  Curing  by 
suggestive  therapeutics  is  a  miracle  to  illiterate  people  to-day. 
In  the  second  place,  we  cannot  explain  the  miracles.  The 
best-known  things  are  inexplicable,  and  science  has  no  fewer 
unexplained  facts  than  religion.  When  we  reduce  any 
phenomena  to  law  we  do  not  explain  them,  for  what  is  law 


THE  MIRACLES  225 

but  the  result  of  our  habitual  observation,  or  better,  the 
habitual  working  of  the  divine  in  the  world  ?  When  we  are 
able  to  understand  things  in  part,  it  does  not  mean  that  God 
is  excluded  from  them.  If  Jesus  used  His  knowledge  of 
men,  of  the  connection  existing  between  mind  and  body,  to 
heal  them,  when  we  read  His  thoughts  after  Him  and  use  the 
knowledge  which  He  has  revealed  to  us,  we  do  not  in  the 
least  detract  from  His  greatness,  but  draw  ourselves  more 
into  harmony  with  it.  He  did  not  explain  His  method;  men 
have  dogmatized  concerning  it,  but  Jesus  neither  affirmed  nor 
denied  their  theories. 

The  second  question  is  this:  In  showing  the  relationship 
between  the  healing  of  Jesus  and  the  apostles  and  modern 
healing,  do  we  not  thereby  establish  the  possibility  and  prob- 
ability of  the  historicity  of  the  miracles?  Do  we  not  give 
the  best  apology  for  the  miracles  which  it  is  possible  to  give  ? 
This  question  we  as  confidently  answer  in  the  affirmative. 
The  scoffer  or  doubter  has  less  ground  on  which  to  stand, 
and  these  miracles  become  demonstrated  facts  which  can- 
not well  be  refuted. 

In  our  study  of  the  miracles,  we  shall  use  hypnotism  as 
representative  of  suggestive  therapeutics  in  any  comparisons, 
for  this  has  been  most  scientifically  examined,  and  is  a  more 
constant  phenomenon.  Of  the  forty  miracles  performed 
by  Jesus  and  the  apostles  on  the  bodies  of  men,  all  classes 
but  three  have  been  duplicated  by  hypnotism.  I  say  "classes," 
not  that  each  specific  case  has  been  duplicated.  The  de- 
scriptions of  some  of  the  cases  are  too  vague  to  allow  us  to 
draw  any  positive  conclusions.  For  instance,  when  the  ac- 
counts speak  of  such  cases  as  "the  sick"  and  of  long-standing 
infirmities,  they  are  too  indefinite  to  be  used  in  the  com- 
parisons, although  the  use  of  hypnotism  is  especially  effica- 
cious in  chronic  and  long-standing  maladies. 

The  classes  of  cases  which  have  not  been  duplicated  by 


226  THE  MIRACLES 

hypnotism  are,  (i)  The  healing  of  Malchus'  ear  after  Peter 
had  struck  it  off.  Unfortunately,  this  incident  is  not  so  well 
authenticated  as  most  of  the  others,  for  while  all  four  evange- 
lists speak  of  the  ear's  being  struck  off,  only  Luke,  the  one 
whose  information  was  least  direct,  speaks  of  the  cure.  But 
while  it  might  not  be  sufficiently  important  in  the  midst  of  such 
stirring  events  for  the  others  to  note  it,  it  attracts  the  attention 
of  the  beloved  physician  on  account  of  his  profession.  I  say 
that  hypnotism  has  not  duplicated  this  if  it  is  meant  that  the 
ear  was  really  struck  off,  and  Jesus  by  touching  it  immediately 
restored  it  as  it  formerly  was.  If  it  means  simply  that  the 
ear  was  cut  and  Jesus  stopped  the  flow  of  blood,  then  this 
would  not  be  so  classed.  (2)  The  second  class  is  the  lepers. 
I  find  no  account  of  an  attempt  to  effect  a  cure  of  leprosy  by 
the  means  of  hypnotism.  (3)  Then  we  have  five  cases  usually 
classed  as  raising  of  the  dead,  three  by  Jesus  and  two  by  the 
apostles.  Of  these  five,  two  are  directly  affirmed  not  to  be 
dead,  but  notwithstanding  this  direct  affirmation,  we  do  not 
accept  it.  The  ruler's  daughter  was  "not  dead  but  sleep- 
ing," and  "life  is  still  in  him,"  said  Paul  of  the  young  man 
who  fell  out  of  the  window.  Nevertheless,  the  other  three  are 
beyond  any  known  laws  of  suggestive  therapeutics. 

Now,  while  I  have  said  that  all  the  other  classes  have  been 
duplicated  by  hypnotism,  some  of  the  individual  cases  have 
not.  Two  in  particular  are  beyond  its  limits.  Hypnotism 
has  cured  the  lame,  but  never  the  congenital  lame  grown  to 
manhood.  Hypnotism  has  cured  the  blind,  but  never  the 
congenital  blind.  All  these  forty  miracles  are  of  healing 
with  the  exception  of  three.  Three  destructive  miracles  were 
performed  by  the  apostles.  Ananias  and  Sapphira  were 
struck  dead,  and  Elymas  was  struck  blind.  Suggestion  has 
had  similar  effects. 

In  our  study  of  suggestive  therapeutics,  we  have  found  two 
elements  necessary  for  any  cure:  the  first  is  suggestion,  the 


THE  MIRACLES  227 

second  is  trustful  expectation  or  faith.  Suggestions  must  be 
given  directly  by  the  healer,  or  indirectly  by  what  persons 
have  read  or  heard;  faith  must  always  be  on  the  part  of  the 
person  to  be  healed.  Let  us  look  and  see  if  these  conditions 
are  carried  out  in  the  New  Testament  miracles.  Almost 
without  exception  we  find  suggestion  made  and  made  directly, 
and  where  no  mention  of  it  is  found,  we  cannot  help  believ- 
ing that  it  is  present.  Strangest  of  all,  suggestion  is  made  to 
the  dead  before  they  arise.  Lazarus  is  commanded  in  a  loud 
voice  to  come  forth  from  the  tomb,  the  daughter  of  the  ruler 
and  the  young  man  of  Nain  are  both  spoken  to  and  com- 
manded to  arise,  and  Dorcas  is  ordered  by  Peter  to  arise 
from  the  bier. 

At  certain  times  the  suggestions  are  given  more  fully  than  at 
others  and  are  very  pronounced.  Mark  gives  us  one  example 
of  Jesus'  which  is  quite  striking.  Jesus  comes  to  the  borders 
of  Decapolis,  and  they  bring  unto  Him  one  who  is  deaf  and 
dumb.  Jesus  takes  him  aside  from  the  multitude  privately, 
in  order  that  He  may  better  give  the  suggestions  without  dis- 
tractions. But  how  is  this  to  be  done?  The  man  cannot 
hear  so  Jesus  cannot  talk  to  him,  but  yet  He  must  give  him 
suggestions.  Jesus  first  put  His  fingers  to  His  ears  to  signify 
which  organs  He  wished  to  be  affected;  then  he  spat  and 
touched  his  tongue  to  draw  attention  to  the  other  infirmity. 
He  next  looked  up  to  heaven,  sighed,  and  said,  "Ephphatha," 
meaning  "  Be  opened."  The  man,  in  looking,  could  not  help 
knowing  what  Jesus  said,  for  no  word  could  more  easily  be 
read  from  the  lips.  The  result  was  a  cure.  We  could  not 
imagine  a  better  method  of  suggestion  to  a  deaf  and  dumb 
man. 

Take,  as  a  further  example,  Peter's  method.  As  Peter 
and  John  were  going  into  the  temple  they  came  upon  a  lame 
man  at  the  Beautiful  Gate.  He  asked  alms  of  them.  Peter 
turned  around  and  fastened  his  eyes  on  him,  and  commanded 


228  THE  MIRACLES 

in  turn  that  he  should  look  at  them.  Here  is  one  of  the  first 
principles  of  suggestion,  fixation  of  attention  by  the  steady 
gaze.  The  record  says,  "Then  he  gave  heed  unto  them." 
Peter  talks  to  him,  "Silver  and  gold  have  I  none,  but  what 
I  have  that  give  I  thee."  Then  comes  the  suggestion  ending 
with  an  abrupt  command,  "In  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ  of 
Nazareth,  Walk!"  Following  up  the  verbal  suggestion  with 
a  dramatic  one,  he  took  him  by  the  right  hand  and  raised 
him  up.  The  man  was  immediately  cured.  Paul  repeats 
this  method  very  closely  on  the  lame  man  at  Lystra. 

In  one  of  Jesus'  cures  we  have  an  example  of  what  is  not 
uncommon  to-day,  viz.,  that  the  cure  was  gradual  and  the 
suggestions  had  to  be  repeated.  Mark,  who  usually  lays 
emphasis  on  the  immediateness  of  the  cure,  gives  us  an  ac- 
count of  this.  At  Bethsaida  they  bring  Him  a  blind  man. 
He  takes  him  by  the  hand,  leads  him  out  of  the  village,  spits 
on  his  eyes,  lays  His  hands  on  him,  and  asks,  "Seest  thou 
aught?"  And  he  answered  and  said,  "I  see  men  as  trees 
walking."  It  was  necessary  to  repeat  the  suggestion,  so  He 
again  laid  hands  on  him  and  this  time  the  man  saw  clearly. 
An  examination  of  the  accounts  of  the  miracles  will  show  the 
element  of  suggestion  to  be  very  prominent. 

The  other  element  necessary  in  suggestive  therapeutics 
is  faith.  Faith  in  Paul's  writings  always  has  the  same  ob- 
ject, viz.,  Jesus  Christ,  but  in  the  usus  loquendi  of  Jesus  it 
has  many  different  objects.  It  may  be  God,  or  His  own 
power  to  heal,  or  the  process.  It  is  most  frequently  used  in 
connection  with  healing  of  some  kind.  We  find  this  a  sine 
qua  non  in  Jesus'  work.  No  one  could  be  healed  without  it. 
The  healing  was  given  to  them  in  proportion  to  their  faith. 
"According  to  your  faith  be  it  unto  you."  We  find  that  He 
was  unable  to  do  mighty  works  in  Nazareth  on  account  of 
their  unbelief.  We  also  find  Him  asking  concerning  their 
faith  before  He  attempts  a  cure. 


THE  MIRACLES  229 

Look  at  three  examples.  When  Jesus  was  going  to  the 
house  of  the  ruler  to  heal  his  daughter,  there  was  a  woman 
who  had  heard  of  Jesus'  cures  and  perhaps  had  seen  them, 
so  that  she  had  great  faith  in  His  power.  Her  faith  was  so 
great  that  she  thought  even  if  she  could  touch  the  hem  of  His 
garment  she  might  be  healed.  She  touched  His  garment, 
and  even  before  Jesus  was  aware  of  it  she  was  healed.  Her 
faith  had  made  her  whole.  After  the  death  of  Ananias  and 
Sapphira  the  people  had  unbounded  faith  in  Peter.  He 
healed  many,  evidently  suggesting  directly  to  them,  but  there 
were  some  whose  faith  was  so  great  that  they  were  healed  by 
being  carried  out  into  the  streets  and  laid  on  beds  and  couches, 
so  that  as  Peter  walked  by  his  shadow  might  fall  on  them. 
Now  none  of  us  would  claim  that  there  was  any  virtue  in 
Peter's  shadow;  the  virtue  was  in  their  faith.  When  Paul 
was  at  Ephesus,  so  great  was  the  faith  of  the  people  in  him 
and  in  the  power  which  he  had  to  heal,  that  "unto  the  sick 
were  carried  away  from  his  body  handkerchiefs  or  aprons, 
and  the  disease  departed  from  them."  No  particular  virtue 
resided  in  the  handkerchiefs  which  had  touched  Paul's 
body,  the  virtue  lay  in  their  faith,  in  the  power  of  their  minds 
over  their  bodies. 

These  two  requisites  for  healing  in  suggestive  therapeutics 
were  also  necessary  for  healing  by  miracle;  in  fact,  the  re- 
semblance of  method  and  form  is  so  strikingly  similar,  it 
seems  that  we  may  be  justified  in  affirming  that  Jesus  and 
the  apostles  used  suggestive  therapeutics  as  the  modus  oper- 
andi in  at  least  some  of  their  healing. 

What,  then,  must  be  our  conclusions  from  a  study  of  the 
miracles  of  Jesus  from  the  standpoint  of  modern  psychologi- 
cal investigations?  One  thing  is  apparent,  in  this  as  in 
other  departments  of  life,  He  was  Son  of  Man  as  He  pro- 
claimed Himself  to  be.  What  makes  Jesus  so  precious  to  us, 
is  that  He  is  so  near  to  us.     He  was  tempted  as  we  are 


230  THE  MIRACLES 

tempted,  He  was  weary  and  sought  rest  even  as  we  must. 
He  had  compassion  on  the  needy  person  and  city  as  we  are 
touched  by  the  sight  of  need.  He  suffered  as  we  suffer. 
He  wept — yes,  as  a  man  He  wept  manly  tears  as  we  must 
weep,  and  He  loved  as  His  great  heart  opened  to  the  world — 
yes,  we,  too,  may  love.  At  funeral  bier  or  marriage  feast 
He  was  the  man  Christ  Jesus.  As  He  approaches  the  bed- 
side of  the  sick  may  He  not  also  be  the  Son  of  Man  ?  Could 
He  not  heal  as  we  heal?  Does  not  this  bring  Him  nearer 
to  us? 

But  if  modern  psychology  has  this  to  say  it  also  has  more. 
He  is  not  only  Son  of  Man.     At  least  sixteen  of  the  thirty- 
four  miracles  performed  by  Him  have  never  been  duplicated 
by  suggestive  therapeutics,  and  as  far  as  we  are  able  to  see 
now,  from  their  very  nature  they  never  will  be.     As  in  other 
parts  of  His  life  He  came  down  to  our  level  and  worked  as  we 
work.     But  He  ascended  so  far  above  us  that  His  shining 
form  is  seen  among  the  stars.     We  can  walk  a  certain  distance 
with  Him  in  any  phase  of  life,  but  the  shackles  of  sin  and  the 
fetters  of  selfishness  soon  hinder  us  so  that  our  journey  ends 
in  a  longing  for  His  goodness  and  power.     When  asked 
concerning  His  dwelling  the  Son  of  Man  admits,  as  might  the 
beggar  or  outcast  of  to-day,  that  He  has  not  where  to  lay  His 
head;  the  Son  of  God  speaks  of  His  Father's  house  of  many 
mansions  to  which  He  is  going.     He  performs  such  simple 
acts  of  service,  He  washes  the  disciples'  feet — the  weakest 
among  us  could  do  that;  but  He  also  forgave  sin.     As  man 
He  accepted  the  doom  of  Calvary  and  gave  up  the  ghost  as 
we  must;  as  the  very  Christ  He  overcame  the  last  enemy — 
death.     We  are  always  able  to  start  with  Him,  but  how  far 
He  goes  beyond  us!    He  healed  the  sick  and  feverish  by 
command  as  men  to-day  may,  but  He  also  raised  the  dead, 
a  feat  which  the  wildest  thinkers  of  modern  science  do  not 
anticipate.     Where   the   line   of  demarcation   between   His 


THE  MIRACLES  231 

human  and  divine  influence  on  the  subconsciousness  of 
man  is  to  be  drawn,  it  is  not  easy  for  us  to  determine,  but 
notwithstanding  this,  from  our  study  we  must  recognize 
Him  as  Son  of  Man  and  Son  of  God,  the  God-man,  Christ 
Jesus. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

CONVERSION 

"How  that  might  change  his  nature,  there's  the  question." — Shake- 
speare. 

In  dealing  with  the  subject  of  religious  conversion,1  its 
very  nature  compels  us  to  treat  it  incompletely.  However 
much  we  may  believe  in  the  divine  element  in  conversion 
and  in  the  religious  life  generally,  it  must  remain  an  unknown 
quantity,  and  it  can  only  be  judged  by  the  apparent  effects 
upon  the  persons  experiencing  it.  In  this  chapter  it  will  be 
the  aim  to  examine  the  effects  upon  the  individual  of  all  con- 
tributing influences  in  conversion,  but  no  attempt  will  be 
made  to  analyze,  describe,  or  explain  the  divine  element. 

The  nature  of  our  data  causes  us,  probably,  the  greatest 
difficulty;  as  already  noted,  it  is  almost  impossible  to  get 
accurate  facts.  Faulty  introspection  and  the  influence  of  the 
experiences  of  others  are  the  chief  troubles.  The  testimony 
of  other  persons,  as  heard  in  meetings,  acts  in  a  suggestive 
way.  In  a  testimony  meeting,  it  will  be  found  that  most  of 
the  experiences  agree,  with  the  exception  of  a  very  few  de- 
tails, and  the  latter  are  more  and  more  eliminated  as  the 
speakers  listen  to  each  other  week  after  week.  In  services 
held  by  different  churches  and  denominations,  it  will  be 
found  that  while  the  testimonies  in  one  church  are  in  harmony 
they  may  be  very  different  from  the  concurring  testimonies 
in  another  church.     Giving  full  credit  to  the  element  of 

1  Much  of  Chap.  X  of  my  Psychology  oj  Alcoholism  is  reproduced  here. 


CONVERSION  233 

similarity  due  to  expectancy,  we  still  have  left  a  large  factor 
due  to  subsequent  agreement  of  an  unconscious  character. 

We  encounter  another  difficulty.  The  term  "conversion" 
has  been  preempted  by  one  form  of  conversion  so  that  when 
we  hear  it  we  naturally  think  of  this  form  only.  The  sud- 
den form  and  the  Pauline  type  have  been  taken  as  a  standard  > 
by  revivalists,  and  the  rest  of  us  have  meekly  accepted  their 
dicta.  Not  only  has  there  been  a  certain  type,  but  a  pre- 
scribed formula  has  been  thrust  upon  us  according  to  which 
every  one  must  conform.  The  main  parts  of  the  formula  are 
a  sinking  into  the  depths  of  agony  and  despair,  and  an  in- 
stantaneous uplift  and  release  which,  on  account  of  its 
spasmodic  and  sudden  character,  is  considered  by  those  who 
experience  it  as  miraculous.  The  revivalist  usually  intensifies 
each  particular  step  in  the  process,  and  with  all  his  dramatic 
ability  portrays  the  symptoms.  The  convert  feels  in  duty  ~~ 
bound  to  experience  all  the  things  which  he  has  had  outlined 
in  an  orthodox  way,  and  if  very  suggestible  does  not  have 
very  much  trouble  in  doing  so.  The  unsuggestible  either 
compromise  their  honesty  or  conclude  that  they  are  not 
among  the  elect. 

Those  who  have  tried  to  impose  this  uniform  plan  of  sal- 
vation upon  the  many  who  would  listen  to  them  have  prob- 
ably been  unconscious  of  the  fact  that  it  was  simply  the  ex- 
perience of  Paul  reduced  to  a  formula,  and  that  Paul  stood 
alone,  of  all  New  Testament  characters,  in  his  experience.1 
It  seems  strange  that  the  one  experience  of  Pentecost  and 
the  single  experience  of  Paul,  neither  of  which  the  New 
Testament  workers  ever  tried  to  duplicate,  should  be  se- 
lected among  so  many  methods  of  working  and  so  many 
conversions,  as  the  only  true  and  God-given  form  of  effort  and 

1  For  a  psychological  analysis  of  Paul's  experience,  see  C.  D.  Royse, 
"The  Psychology  of  Paul's  Conversion,"  American  Journal  0}  Religious 
Psychology  and  Education,  I,  pp.  143-154. 


234  CONVERSION 

of  approach  to  the  Infinite.  Pentecost  needed  a  defence 
against  the  charge  of  drunkenness,  and  Paul  evidently  did 
not  find  it  easy  to  convince  the  disciples  of  the  reality  of  his 
experience.  On  the  other  hand,  notice  the  quiet  but  ever- 
effective  method  of  Jesus,  subject  to  no  criticism,  and  the 
sane,  normal  experience  of  Matthew,  Zaccheus,  the  Ethi- 
opian, and  Timothy. 

Not  only  is  instantaneous  conversion  not  the  only  true 
type  of  approaching  God,  but  it  is  the  extreme  form  of  one 
type  among  several.  Instead  of  saying,  with  all  its  serious 
consequences,  that  there  is  only  one  way  of  approach  to  God, 
it  would  be  more  true  to  say  that  no  two  persons  ever  come 
in  the  same  way,  but  that  each  case  is  unique.  No  type  is 
clearly  marked,  but  individual  experiences  show  that  the 
types  run  into  each  other.  The  tendency  of  the  one-formula 
method  is  to  produce  a  mediocre  and  constrained  lot  of 
Christians,  all  trying,  with  indifferent  success,  to  conform 
to  the  same  pattern.  It  is  similar  to  the  discipline  of  the 
Jesuits,  which  stifles  individual  characteristics  and  puts  all 
into  one  class,  which  is  necessarily  not  the  first  class. 

Jesus  did  not  foster  the  sudden  method  of  conversion  and 
it  has  never  been  universal  since  His  time.  The  Roman 
Catholic,  the  Lutheran,  and  the  Episcopal  denominations 
have  never  encouraged  it.  The  catechism  and  confirma- 
tion have  taken  the  place  of  this,  sometimes,  to  be  sure,  re- 
sulting in  a  formal  and  somewhat  spineless  religion,  but  es- 
caping the  dangers  of  the  revival  method.  The  value  of  the 
extreme  type  is  a  modern  doctrine  and  a  product  of  the  re- 
vival, the  Methodists  and  the  New  England  Congregationalists 
being  the  ones  who  developed  it.  Both  the  revival  and  the 
exclusive  sudden  conversion  have  been  incidents  merely  in  the 
great  religious  life  of  the  world,  incidents  of  value  for  the 
time,  but  passing  now  into  oblivion,  and  giving  place  to  the 
more  normal  and  valuable  processes. 


CONVERSION  235 

It  is  not,  mark  you,  that  conversion  is  out  of  date,  but  simply 
that  one  form  is  passing.  Conversion  is  a  normal  human  ex- 
perience— "a  natural,  normal,  universal,  and  necessary 
process  of  adolescence."  This  is  best  seen  in  the  thousands 
of  Christian  homes  throughout  the  land,  where  from  infancy 
children  are  reared  in  the  knowledge  of  that  which  is  best, 
and  with  the  expectation  of  always  living  a  life  of  righteous- 
ness in  which  their  powers  shall  be  exerted  in  the  advance- 
ment of  the  Kingdom  of  God.  In  the  days  of  adolescent 
adjustment  there  is  then  some  ground  on  which  to  build. 

Further,  it  is  difficult  to  consider  conversion  alone  for  it 
is  but  a  part  of  a  process.  It  is  a  life  rather  than  an  isolated 
experience  which  should  be  the  unit.  It  is,  therefore,  not 
the  so-called  miraculous,  yet  really  abnormal,  experience 
which  should  be  the  test  of  conversion,  but  the  Christ-like 
conduct  which  is  the  fruit  of  our  lives.  The  important  thing 
about  Paul's  conversion  was  not  the  bright  light,  nor  the 
words  heard,  nor  the  blindness,  nor  any  other  of  the  incidental 
concomitants,  but  the  conversion  itself;  and  it  was  the  change 
from  the  bigoted  persecutor  to  the  broad-minded  preacher 
which  betokened  the  divine  hand  in  it  rather  than  any  ab- 
normal phenomena  which  accompanied  it. 

In  addition  to  the  fallacy  of  endeavoring  to  give  a  descrip- 
tion of  a  single  uniform  type  instead  of  a  history  of  different 
conversions  in  which  we  recognize  the  difference  as  well  as 
the  similarity,  there  has  been  a  tendency  so  to  emphasize 
some  one  element  in  the  process  that  that  has  been  taken  for 
the  whole.  In  this  endeavor  to  simplify  matters  they  have 
been  still  further  complicated.  The  simplest  mental  process 
is  so  complicated  that  we  cannot  hope  to  describe  all  the 
factors,  that  is  true;  our  effort  should  be,  however,  to  give 
as  full  description  as  possible  in  order  that  the  full  significance 
of  the  process  should  be  realized.  One  factor  can  never 
represent  all--the  whole  mind  functions  in  the  simplest  act. 


236  CONVERSION 

It  is  worthy  of  note,  as  a  matter  of  comparison,  that 
sudden  conversion  may  be  of  other  than  religious  forms, 
and  while  being  religious  may  be  in  the  opposite  direction. 
James1  gives  three  cases  of  unreligious  conversion:  one 
from  prodigality  to  miserliness,  one  from  intense  love  to 
hatred,  and  one  from  worry  and  anger  to  carefreeness  and 
good  nature.  He  also  cites  three  cases  of  "counter  con- 
version," i.  e.,  conversion  from  righteousness  to  infidelity. 
Starbuck2  gives  a  number  of  examples  of  unreligious  con- 
version. 

Instead  of  designating  these  types  sudden  and  gradual, 
we  may  speak  of  them  from  some  other  standpoint  than  that 
of  the  time  involved.  Starbuck3  characterizes  them  as 
"Escape  from  sin"  and  "Spiritual  Illumination."  One  may 
readily  see  how  the  element  of  time  would  be  necessarily 
connected  with  the  difference  in  the  process;  the  former 
would  be  sudden  and  violent,  the  latter  would  be  mentally 
gradual.  Another  classification  by  the  same  author  follows 
in  general  the  same  line.  It  is  that  of  self-surrender  and 
volition;  the  former  conforms  to  the  sudden  type  and  the 
latter  to  the  gradual. 

Before  we  attempt  an  analysis  of  the  process  or  processes 
it  might  seem  imperative  to  have  a  definition  of  conversion. 
Attention  is  again  called  to  the  fact  that  conversion  is  not  a 
complete  process  in  itself,  but  forms  a  part  of  a  process  of 
which  the  total  religious  experience  is  the  whole.  It  should 
be  noted  that  those  parts  which  seem  at  first  to  be  sudden  and 
instantaneous  are  but  the  fructification  of  a  longer  or  shorter 
development,  most  probably  of  a  subconscious  nature.  This 
process  of  conversion  is  variously  defined  and  explained, 
as  may  be  seen  from  the  following  quotations: 

1  W.  James,  The  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  pp.  1 76-181. 
'  E.  D.  Starbuck,  Psychology  of  Religion,  pp.  137-144. 
8  E.  D.  Starbuck,  Psychology  oj  Religion,  pp.  85  ft.    . 


CONVERSION  237 

"Conversion  is  in  its  essence  a  change  of  intention."1 

"The  regenerate  life  is  a  changed  life;  ...  it  is  a  change 
marked  by  the  consciousness  of  the  person's  own  needs,  and 
that  the  Christ  life  can  satisfy  them."2 

"...  At  last  the  rationalistic  fetters  fall  off,  and  the  sup- 
pressed hypnotic  centres  explode  with  immense  satisfaction. 
This  is  the  most  important  key  to  the  psychology  of  'con- 
version.'"3 

"The  essence  of  religion  is  a  striving  toward  being,  not 
toward  knowing."  In  Christianity  "the  goal  of  religious 
life  becomes  regeneration,  by  which  unification  of  motives 
— i.  e.,  union  with  God,  when  objectively  considered — is 
achieved."4 

"The  explanation  of  sudden  conversion  is  no  doubt  to 
be  sought  in  some  overpowering  impression  upon  the  mind 
that  supplies  a  new  and  energetic  motive  to  the  will,  thereby 
initiating  a  new  line  of  conduct.  .  .  .  Such  changes  occasion- 
ally happen,  but  not  without  terrific  struggles,  which  prove 
how  hard  it  is  to  set  up  the  volition  of  a  day  against  the  bent 
of  years."5 

"Conversion  is  suddenly  forsaking  the  lower  for  the  higher 
self.  In  terms  of  the  neural  basis  of  consciousness,  it  is  the 
inhibition  of  lower  channels  of  nervous  discharge  through 
the  establishment  of  higher  connections  and  identification 
of  the  ego  with  the  new  activities.  In  theological  terminology 
it  is  Christ  coming  into  the  heart  and  the  old  life  being  blotted 
out— the  human  life  being  swallowed  up  in  the  life  of  God."6 

1  F.  Granger,  The  Soul  of  a  Christian,  p.  77. 

2  A.  H.  Daniels,  "The  New  Life,"  American  Journal  0}  Psychology, 
VI,  p.  102. 

3  H.  Ellis,  Man  and  Woman,  p.  292. 

*  J.  H.  Leuba,  "A  Study  in  the  Psychology  of  Religious  Phenomena," 
American  Journal  of  Psychology,  VII,  pp.  313  and  318. 

5  A.  Bain,  Emotions  and  Will,  p.  453. 

6  E.  D.  Starbuck,  The  Psychology  of  Religion,  p.  156  /. 


238  CONVERSION 

"To  be  converted,  to  be  regenerated,  to  receive  grace,  to 
experience  religion,  to  gain  an  assurance,  are  so  many 
phrases  which  denote  the  process,  gradual  or  sudden,  by 
which  a  self  hitherto  divided,  and  consciously  wrong,  in- 
ferior, and  unhappy,  becomes  unified  and  consciously  right, 
superior,  and  happy  in  consequence  of  its  firmer  hold  upon 
religious  realities." 

"Now,  there  may  be  great  oscillations  in  the  emotional 
interest,  and  the  hot  places  may  shift  before  one.  .  .  .  Then 
we  have  the  wavering  and  divided  self.  ...  Or  the  focus 
of  excitement  and  heat,  the  point  of  view  from  which  the 
aim  is  taken,  may  come  to  lie  permanently  within  a  certain 
system;  and  then,  if  the  change  be  a  religious  one,  we  call  it 
conversion,  especially  if  the  change  be  by  crisis  or  sudden."1 
Many  more  quotations  might  be  given  to  show  the  great 
difference  in  the  definitions  and  explanations  given  by  differ- 
ent men,  or  by  the  same  man  at  different  times.  It  is  not 
claimed  that  any  one  is  wrong,  for  the  variety  of  expression 
shows  what  has  already  been  stated,  that  religion  applies  to 
the  whole  man.  The  definition  of  religious  conversion  de- 
pends upon  the  standpoint  from  which  it  is  viewed,  the  ac- 
tivity of  mind  concerning  which  one  is  speaking  at  the  time, 
the  mental  activity  thought  to  be  chiefly  concerned,  the  par- 
ticular type  of  conversion  with  which  the  speaker  is  familiar, 
or  the  interpretation  of  the  facts  by  the  individual. 

It  is  because  it  does  concern  the  whole  man,  and  not  one 
faculty,  that  there  is  such  a  diversity  of  definition  and  expla- 
nation. Further,  some  in  their  definitions  might  entirely 
eliminate  the  human  element,  and  speak  of  it  in  theological 
rather  than  psychological  terms,  as  a  divine  act.  So  in  order 
to  get  a  correct  definition  of  conversion  we  might  take  the 
substance  of  all  definitions,  and  then  probably  it  would  not 
be  too  comprehensive.  The  idea  of  unity,  so  prominent  with 
1  W.  James,  The  Varieties  o)  Religious  Experience,  pp.  189  and  196. 


CONVERSION  239 

some,  has  this  advantage:  it  comprehends  the  whole  man; 
but  complete  unity  seems  to  be  rather  the  ideal,  ripened  ex- 
perience than  the  common  experience  of  converts. 

It  may  be  well  for  us  at  this  time  to  examine  some  of  the 
factors  of  conversion  as  experienced  more  or  less  commonly 
by  different  persons.  The  reader  should  take  particular 
notice  of  the  fact  that  no  single  case  or  definite  type  is  being 
described,  but  only  different  factors  which  may  or  may  not 
enter  into  the  individual  case.  Whether  or  not  we  shall  meet 
any  one  of  them  in  any  particular  case  is  a  matter  which  de- 
pends upon  the  temperament  of  the  individual,  and  the  forces 
which  have  been  at  work  in  him. 

One  factor  very  common  in  cases  of  the  abrupt  type  is  that 
of  conviction  or  a  profound  sense  of  sin  antedating  the  crisis, 
from  which  the  new  life  spontaneously  shines  forth  as  a 
natural  reaction.  The  older  form  of  the  presentation  of  the 
Gospel,  i.  e.,  the  revival  form,  was  that  of  the  magnification 
of  the  guilt  of  sin,  and  the  terrible  results  to  the  sinner.  Sal- 
vation came  as  the  rescue  from  sin  rather  than  as  the  door  to 
the  abundant  life.  Whether  this  is  the  direct  result  of  the 
manner  of  presenting  the  Gospel,  or  something  inherent  in 
conversion  itself,  it  is  difficult  to  say;  but  it  will  be  interesting 
to  compare  the  conversions  of  the  future  when  the  opposite 
form  of  the  Gospel  is  more  especially  presented,  to  see  if  this 
will  not  correspondingly  change  the  nature  of  conversion 
from  a  struggling  away  from  sin  to  a  striving  toward  right- 
eousness. Starbuck  has  the  following  to  say  concerning  the 
sense  of  sin : 

"There  are  many  shades  of  experience  in  this  precon- 
version  state.  An  attempt  at  a  classification  of  them  gave 
these  not  very  different  groups:  Conviction  for  sin  proper, 
struggle  after  the  new  life;  prayer,  calling  on  God;  sense  of 
estrangement  from  God;  doubts  and  questionings;  tendency 
to  resist  conviction;  depression  and  sadness;  restlessness, 


24o  CONVERSION 

anxiety,  and  uncertainty;  helplessness  and  humility;  earnest- 
ness and  seriousness;  and  various  bodily  affections.  The 
result  of  the  analysis  of  these  different  shades  of  experience 
coincides  with  the  common  designation  of  this  preconversion 
state  in  making  the  central  fact  in  all  the  sense  of  sin,  while 
the  other  conditions  are  various  manifestations  of  this,  as 
determined,  first,  by  differences  in  temperament,  and  second, 
by  whether  the  ideal  life  or  the  sinful  life  is  vivid  in  conscious- 
ness. .  .  .  We  may  safely  say  that  we  have  to  look  for  the  cause 
underlying  the  sense  of  sin,  in  part,  in  certain  temperamental 
and  organic  conditions,  and  not  to  consider  it  simply  as  a 
spiritual  fact."1 

This  last  statement  is  especially  true  of  adolescent  con- 
versions which  form,  as  we  know,  the  larger  number.2 
Jonathan  Edwards,  however,  defends  this  state,  taking  a 
theological  rather  than  a  psychological  standpoint.  "Surely 
it  cannot  be  unreasonable,"  he  says,  "that  before  God  de- 
livers us  from  a  state  of  sin  and  liability  to  everlasting  woe, 
he  should  give  us  some  considerable  sense  of  the  evil  from 
which  he  delivers  us,  in  order  that  we  may  know  and  feel 
the  importance  of  salvation,  and  be  enabled  to  appreciate 
the  value  of  what  God  is  pleased  to  do  for  us."3 

In  Hall's  account  of  the  sense  of  sin  in  his  description  of 
adolescent  conversion4  he  finds  four  fruits  of  the  sense  of  sin, 
viz.,  pain,  guilt,  craving  for  just  punishment,  and  confession. 
Of  course,  we  must  keep  in  mind  that  these  do  not  follow  in 
every  case,  but  may.  Added  to  these,  but  less  frequent,  is  a 
sense  of  hereditary  corruption  when  we  feel  that  we  are  "the 
victims  of  ancestral  vice.     This  sense  of  sin  naturally  leads 

1  E.  D.  Starbuck,  The  Psychology  of  Religion,  pp.  58  and  71. 
*  The  discussion  of  the  relation  of  conversion  to  the  age  of  the  indi- 
vidual will  be  considered  in  the  following  chapter. 

3  Quoted  by  W.  James,  The  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  p.  229. 

4  G.  S.  Hall,  Adolescence,  II,  pp.  305-314. 


CONVERSION  241 

to  asceticism  and  its  various  forms  of  self-torture.  Leuba1 
gives  the  term  "Sense  of  sin"  a  too  comprehensive  scope 
when  he  says,  "The  sense  of  sin.  .  .  is  at  times  little  more 
than  a  feeling  of  physical  misery,  the  anguish  of  the  sickened 
flesh.  In  such  cases  the  expressions  'regret'  and  'desire  for 
relief  should  properly  take  the  place  of  'remorse'  and 
'repentance,'  which  designate  experiences  modified  by 
specific  intellectual  considerations  ignored  by  the  persons 
we  speak  of."  If  this  is  really  the  case,  if  this  is  really  what 
we  mean,  let  us  say  it.  Why  call  it  sense  of  sin  if  it  is  not  ? 
Let  us  exclude  these  from  this  category  and  recognize  that 
some  physical  concomitants  accompany  or  precede  con- 
version, but  because  they  do  so  we  are  not  bound  to  call  them 
sense  of  "sin."  We  should  not  gratuitously  bring  the  term 
"sin"  into  the  discussion  simply  because  we  are  dealing 
with  a  religious  subject. 

Following  the  sense  of  sin  and  the  presentation  of  the 
ideal  of  a  better  life,  a  struggle  between  the  higher  and  lower 
parts  of  the  nature  may  ensue  which  is  known  as  "the 
divided  self."  It  is  the  endeavor  of  the  individual  to  make 
this  new  ideal  his  own,  perhaps  contrary  to  his  habit  of  life 
for  years,  with  a  knowledge  of  the  struggle  which  it  may  en- 
tail, and  with  associations  and  companions  largely  on  the 
side  of  the  former  life. 

In  this  state,  the  struggle,  misery,  agony,  and  uncertainty, 
common  in  some  cases,  is  felt,  together  with  worry  and  anger, 
or  despair  and  fear.  The  individual  knows  not  where  he 
will  eventually  settle,  and  some  powers  outside  of  him  seem 
to  be  contending  for  possession  of  him.  By  some  this  con- 
dition, rather  than  the  sense  of  sin  stage,  is  called  conviction. 
This  may  last  for  days  or  weeks  or  only  for  a  moment;  it 
may  appear  with  varying  degrees  of  intensity,  and  is  modi- 

1  J.  H.  Leuba,  "A  Study  in  the  Psychology  of  Religious  Phenomena," 
American  Journal  oj  Psychology,  VII,  p.  330. 


242  CONVERSION 

fied  when  the  climax  of  the  process  of  conversion  takes  place, 
although  it  is  probably  never  eliminated  from  the  Christian 
life.  Coe  tells  us  when  dealing  with  the  religion  of  a  mature 
mind,  that  "Competition  is  going  on  for  the  mastery  of  life. 
You  may  call  it,  in  theological  terms,  a  struggle  between 
Satan  and  the  Spirit  of  God;  or  you  may  call  it,  in  biological 
language,  an  effort  to  adjust  ourselves  to  environment  against 
unsocialized  remnants  of  the  ape  and  tiger  nature.  In  any 
case  the  contest  is  a  fact  that  each  one  of  us  knows  for  him- 
self, irrespective  of  catechism,  and  of  all  theories,  whether 
biological  or  theological."1 

We  are,  of  course,  reminded  of  the  testimony  of  Paul,  who, 
when  he  would  do  good,  found  evil  present  with  him.  This 
however,  refers  to  a  post-conversion  experience,  but  is  evi- 
dently of  the  same  nature,  if  in  a  less  degree,  as  the  pre- 
conversion  divided  self.  It  is  evident  that  the  division  of  the 
self  is  never  entirely  healed,  and  unity  afterward  accom- 
plished in  the  process  of  conversion  is  only  partial.  In  a 
subconscious  way,  if  not  otherwise,  we  should  naturally 
expect  that  the  association  of  years  would  crop  up  occasion- 
ally. But  this  preconversion  divided  self,  caused  as  it  is 
by  the  forces  in  one's  environment  which  tend  to  disrupt  the 
unity  of  consciousness,  consists  of  the  contrast  between  the 
present  condition  and  the  fulfilment  of  ideals  of  conduct. 
James  lays  emphasis  on  the  fact  that  this  division  is  a 
matter  of  mental  constitution,  the  extreme  examples  of 
which  are  found  in  psychopathic  temperaments.2  The  sub- 
conscious factors  are  more  or  less  prominent  in  cases  of  this 
kind. 

This  is  the  period  of  doubt  through  which  most  adolescents 
pass,  prior  to  the  conversion  climax.  These  doubts  differ 
in  severity,  sometimes,  in  extreme  cases,  driving  the  doubters 

1  G.  A.  Coe,  The  Religion  0}  a  Mature  Mind,  p.  114. 

2  W.  James,  The  Varieties  of  Religions  Experience,  Chap.  VIII. 


CONVERSION  243 

to  suicide.  These  may  be  fought  out  in  secret  or  displayed 
openly,  but  they  come  usually  in  adolescence  although  they 
may  not  end  in  conversion.  A  further  discussion  of  doubt 
will  be  taken  up  in  another  place.  The  explanation  of  the 
divided  self  is  probably  to  be  found  in  the  different  systems 
of  associations  which  may  be  mutually  exclusive. 

In  the  conversion  process,  the  natural  consequent  of  the 
divided  self  is  what  has  been  termed  self -surrender.  The 
struggle  has  continued  until  the  ego  seems  to  be  almost  rent 
asunder  in  some  cases;  one  or  the  other  of  the  contesting 
factors  must  give  way,  and  finally  the  old  self,  the  lower 
desires,  gives  up  the  battle  and  sometimes  instantaneously, 
sometimes  gradually,  the  misery,  worry,  and  despair  are 
changed  to  happiness,  trust,  and  confidence:  the  unsettled, 
divided  self  becomes  stable  and  united.  This  is  the  turning 
point  in  the  process.  It  sometimes  seems  to  be  immediately 
due  to  physical  causes,  at  least  quite  largely.  The  struggle 
becomes  so  great  and  therefore  so  wearying,  that  the  brain 
refuses  to  respond,  bringing  about  temporarily  a  state  of 
apathy  and,  in  exceptional  cases,  coma.  It  may  be  called 
a  surrender  on  both  sides,  insomuch  that  neither  one  shows 
signs  of  activity;  but  when  activity  again  takes  place  or,  in 
cases  of  coma,  when  consciousness  appears,  the  side  of  the 
good  is  dominant.  Notice  that  the  break-down  does  not  al- 
ways take  place,  but  it  may,  and  more  frequently  does  in 
cases  of  sudden  conversion. 

From  the  physiological  standpoint  the  exhaustion  is  caused 
by  the  turning  of  energy  into  new  channels,  and  breaking  up 
the  associations  with  the  old.  If  we  could  speak  in  so  crass 
a  way  concerning  the  processes  of  which  we  know  little  or 
nothing,  we  might  say  that  the  exhaustion  is  caused  by  the 
effort  to  connect  the  associations  of  this  new  cellular  system, 
which  is  the  basis  of  the  ideal,  with  those  which  form  the 
basis  of  the  vital  forces;  or  shall  we  say  that  it  is  exhausting 


244  CONVERSION 

to  turn  the  total  vital  energy  into  new  courses  ?  The  same 
process  is  experienced  in  the  breaking  of  any  habit,  but  in  a 
limited  degree,  for  while  the  habit  may  touch  a  small  part  of 
the  mental  life,  religion  embraces  the  whole  man. 

What  has  been  said  regarding  the  physical  is  but  an 
analogy  drawn  from  the  psychical,  from  the  state  of  exhaustion 
and  the  evident  endeavor  to  transfer  the  ego  to  the  side  of 
the  forces  of  the  good.  With  the  help  of  additional  motives, 
advanced  either  by  friends  or  by  the  self,  consciously  or 
sub-consciously,  the  transfer  is  made,  and  when  once  made 
the  evil  forces  retreat;  "resist  the  devil  and  he  will  flee  from 
you."  With  the  weakening  and  the  expulsion  of  the  evil 
forces,  there  comes  the  unity  of  the  ideals,  feelings,  and  voli- 
tions, in  fact,  of  the  whole  life,  which  is  a  characteristic  feeling 
in  the  conversion  process.  Professor  James  speaks  of  the 
conversion  climax  as  follows: 

"Let  us  hereafter,  in  speaking  of  the  hot  places  in  a  man's 
consciousness,  the  group  of  ideas  to  which  he  devotes  himself, 
and  from  which  he  works,  call  it  the  habitual  centre  of  his 
personal  energy.  It  makes  a  great  difference  to  a  man 
whether  one  set  of  his  ideas,  or  another,  be  the  centre  of  his 
energy;  and  it  makes  a  great  difference  as  regards  any  set 
of  ideas  which  he  may  possess,  whether  they  become  central 
or  remain  peripheral  in  him.  To  say  that  a  man  is  'con- 
verted' means,  in  these  terms,  that  religious  ideas,  previously 
peripheral  in  his  consciousness,  now  take  a  central  place, 
and  that  religious  aims  form  the  habitual  centre  of  his  en- 
ergy. .  .  .  Now,  if  you  ask  of  psychology  just  how  the  ex- 
citement shifts  in  a  man's  mental  system,  and  why  aims  that 
were  peripheral  become  at  a  certain  moment  central,  psy- 
chology has  to  reply  that  although  she  can  give  a  general 
description  of  what  happens,  she  is  unable  in  a  given  case 
to  account  accurately  for  all  the  single  forces  at  work.  Neither 
an  outside  observer  nor  the  Subject  who  undergoes  the  process 


CONVERSION  245 

can  explain  fully  how  particular  experiences  are  able  to 
change  one's  centre  of  energy  so  decisively,  or  why  they  so 
often  have  to  bide  their  hour  to  do  so."1 

The  struggle  and  victory  may  be  toward  an  end  which  is 
distinctly  defined,  or  it  may  be  very  confused,  but  it  is  against 
the  old  and  for  the  new  very  clearly;  and  what  we  call  self- 
surrender  of  the  old,  may  be  as  well  named  the  acceptance 
of  the  new;  it  depends  on  the  standpoint  from  which  we  view 
it.  It  may  be  further  expressed  or  denned  by  saying  that 
the  desire  or  affection  for  the  new  life,  or  for  God,  or  for 
Jesus,  is  so  overpowering  as  to  drive  out  all  baser  motives 
or  ideas.  Luther  and  Wesley  would  say,  "Believe  you  are 
saved  and  you  are."  Believing  you  are  saved  is  one  form  of 
self-surrender. 

In  this  type  of  conversion,  in  contrast  with  the  volitional 
type,  the  will  seems  to  play  little  part  except  in  its  own 
abeyance.  A  continued  active  exercise  of  the  will  seems  to  be 
a  continuation  of  the  divided  self  state.  If  this  is  given  up, 
if  there  is  a  relaxation — a  letting-go — the  subconscious 
forces  are  allowed  to  exert  an  influence,  and  that  new  centre 
of  energy  which  has  been  subconsciously  developing  takes 
the  chief  place  in  consciousness.  When  once  this  system 
becomes  central  it  usually  retains  its  new  position,  and  con- 
trols the  life.  The  state  of  exhaustion,  or  even  coma,  spoken 
of  as  a  climax  of  the  divided  self  state  provides  the  needed 
relaxation,  the  opportunity  for  the  appearance  of  the  sub- 
conscious forces.  What  are  these  subconscious  forces  and 
whence  comes  the  power  ?  Is  it  simply  subconscious  activity  ? 
Some  would  opine  this  to  be  the  case.  Is  it  divine  power? 
Some  would  consider  this  to  be  the  more  correct  way  of 
stating  the  case.  Here  we  are  leaving  the  domain  of  fact 
and  entering  that  of  theory.  It  is  noticeable,  however,  that 
the  latter  would  not  be  inconsistent  with  the  theory  which  I 

1  W.  James,  The  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  p.  196. 


246  CONVERSION 

have  espoused,  that  if  God  works  directly  upon  man  He 
works  through  the  subconsciousness. 

The  result  of  self -surrender,  or  a  part  of  the  process,  is  the 
unification  of  the  mind  in  contrast  to  the  former  divided 
self.     This  unification  comes  through  the  victory  of  the  one 
side  and  the  despotic  rule  of  the  dominant  forces.     Around 
these  forces  the  life  moves  and  hence  comes  the  harmony. 
The  individual  now  comes  to  live  a  life  of  affection  for  and 
harmony  with  that  which  was  formerly  but  a  vague  ideal: 
he  identifies  himself  with  recognized  good  which  is  his  high- 
est standard.     This  is  brought  about,  as  are  similar  changes, 
by  the  dominance  of  an  opposite  group  of  associated  ideas. 
The   contrast  between  this  and  the  old  life  has  become 
definite,  and  everything  should  be  done  to  transfer  the  person- 
ality to  the  new  centres  decisively  and  finally.    "It  [the  proc- 
ess of  unification]    may  come   gradually  or  it   may  occur 
abruptly;  it  may  come  through  altered  feelings  or  through 
altered  powers  of  action;  or  it  may  come  through  new  in- 
tellectual insights,  or  through  experiences  which  we  shall 
later  have  to  designate  as  'mystical.'     However  it  come,  it 
brings  a  characteristic  sort  of  relief;  and  never  such  extreme 
relief  as  when  it  is  cast  into  the  religious  mould."1    This 
self-surrender,  or  religious  victory,  or  sense  of  unity  is  fre- 
quently shown  first  by  a  desire  to  proclaim  the  change  which 
has  been  experienced,  in  what  is  called  confession  or  testi- 
mony.    The  sense  of  newness,  shortly  to  be  described,  may 
account  for  the  almost  irresistible  impulse  to  proclaim  it. 

Logically  following  self-surrender  is  faith.  This  is  a  con- 
dition of  mind  shown  by  its  attitude  toward  all  truth  con- 
sistent with  its  lately  formed  determination  to  accept  the 
new  life.  This  condition  is  one  of  receptivity  toward  the 
good.  While  logically  these  can  be  separated,  in  reality  it  is 
difficult,  indeed  impossible,  to  draw  the  line  between  them, 

1  W.  James,  The  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  p.  175. 


CONVERSION  247 

for  they  are  both  factors  of  a  process,  and  these  factors  are 
so  interwoven  as  to  be  inseparable.  Faith  could  be  defined 
as  the  acceptance  of  certain  elements  of  the  Christian  life, 
as  a  belief  in  salvation,  as  believing  that  you  are  saved;  but 
is  not  this  the  very  point  in  self-surrender,  accepting  the  new, 
believing  in  one's  own  salvation?  If  they  do  not  coincide, 
the  distinction  might  be  made  thus:  self -surrender  is  the  be- 
ginning of  a  process  of  which  faith  is  the  continuance.  Both 
self-surrender  and  faith  have  a  large  affective  element. 

The  change  effected  by  this  whole  process  is  great,  whether 
it  has  come  gradually  or  suddenly,  regardless  of  what  mental 
element  may  seem  to  dominate,  or  what  is  the  immediate 
antecedent  of  the  change.  Relieved  of  a  great  burden,  as 
some  express  it,  there  is  a  feeling  of  peace  and  happiness  in 
the  unity  achieved.  Although  psychologically  the  process 
of  conversion  does  not  stand  alone,  it  is  by  far  the  most  com- 
mon of  its  class,  and  perhaps  on  account  of  this  seems  more 
closely  related  to  normal  processes.  In  every-day  life  we 
find  mental  experiences  analogous  to  each  factor  of  the  con- 
version experience,  and  sometimes  to  the  whole  process. 
While  there  may  be  at  times  abnormal  elements  in  conver- 
sion, it  conforms  more  closely  to  the  experiences  of  every- 
day life  than  one  at  first  supposes;  and  why  not  ?  Are  we  not 
being  converted  more  or  less  every  day?  Do  we  not  break 
old  habits,  and  receive  new  revelations  of  truth  that  change 
us  daily,  making  us  different  persons  indeed  to-day  from 
what  we  were  yesterday?  Here  again  the  difference  should 
be  emphasized — religious  conversion  in  contradistinction 
from  other  experiences  comprehends  the  whole  mental  life. 

The  result  of  conversion,  or  perhaps  we  could  better 
say,  the  final  part  of  the  process,  differs  with  different  indi- 
viduals. One  experience  which  is  very  common  is  the  feel- 
ing of  newness,  and  properly  so  when  we  consider  the  change 
involved.     The  convert  jlives  in  a  new  world  because  he 


248  CONVERSION 

sees  everything  from  a  new  point  of  view.  Everything 
appears  beautiful,  and  the  world  calls  forth  exclamations 
of  admiration.  The  convert  suddenly  becomes  an  optimist 
of  the  most  pronounced  type;  he  wonders  why  he  did  not 
see  the  good  in  every  person  and  thing  before,  and  a  smile 
is  upon  his  face  because  he  sees  the  beautiful  significance 
of  all  things.  This  newness  brings  him  joy  and  freedom, 
partly  because  he  feels  justified  as  if  his  sins  were  for- 
given, and  he  has  come  into  harmony  with  God  and 
the  world.  It  is  the  joy  and  freedom  of  the  prisoner 
released  from  his  bonds.  He  may  appear  overjoyful, 
ultra-confident,  and  superoptimistic,  but  he  is  sure  that  he 
is  normal,  and  wonders  why  others  fail  to  experience  as 
much  joy  as  he.  He  feels  confident  that  it  will  never  de- 
crease, that  he  will  always  be  equally  happy.  In  psychic 
troubles  depression  precedes  all  exaltation,  and  this  newness 
evidently  comes  as  a  reaction  from  the  previous  depressed 
state  which  we  have  called  sense  of  sin. 

The  feelings,  no  doubt,  fluctuate  from  time  to  time,  and 
become  much  calmer,  but  the  attitude  toward  the  new  life 
and  the  old  remains  constant.  Religion  thus  acts  in  a 
double  way  on  the  feelings— it  does  arouse  them,  but  it  also 
aids  to  calm  them;  they  may  become  much  excited,  but  there 
are  also  in  religion  the  motives  for  control.  Leuba  compares 
the  experience  of  newness  to  that  felt  by  "the  youth  who  has 
sung  for  the  first  time  his  love-tale  to  his  lady  and  receives 
the  assurance  of  requited  love,  the  afflicted  one  who  has 
walked  through  a  dark  passage  and  suddenly  comes  to  the 
light,"  and  this  is  undoubtedly  true;  to  reiterate,  conversion 
is  not  unlike  the  experiences  of  every-day  life.  Mr.  Leuba 
also  suggests  as  an  explanation  of  this  phenomenon,  changes 
in  the  physiological  processes.  He  makes  as  a  conjecture 
(and  no  one  can  do  more  than  conjecture)  the  following: 

"We  might  rest  content  with  the  explanation  that  we  have 


CONVERSION  249 

to  do  with  an  emotional  delusion  in  which  the  affective  state 
colours  external  sense  impressions.  .  .  .  But  we  can  perhaps 
make  another  suggestion,  in  this  wise:  The  conversion  crisis 
may  be  supposed  to  have  for  physiological  counterpart  a 
redistribution  of  energy  involving  general  modifications  of 
the  association  paths;  or  the  alteration  of  rhythms,  changing 
the  nervous  regimen.  It  is  natural  enough  to  admit  that  to  a 
psychic  turmoil  so  intense  as  that  of  conversion,  corresponds 
a  no  less  considerable  physiological  commotion  setting  up  a 
new  arrangement  of  the  motor  mechanism."1 

Numerous  changes  follow  or  accompany  this  feeling  of 
newness.  There  is  the  sense  of  perceiving  new  truths. 
Things  which  have  been  hidden  from  the  individual  are 
now  made  plain.  There  is  liable  to  be,  however,  an  aston- 
ishing credulity  at  times  largely  on  account  of  the  uncritical 
condition  of  the  convert,  and  the  unity  and  simplicity  of  the 
whole  mental  life.  The  limitation  of  mentality  causes  the 
acceptance  of  almost  anything  that  is  suggested,  particularly 
along  the  line  of  religion,  and  the  more  exaggerated  it  is  the 
more  acceptable  it  is  with  some.  Later  and  calmer  moments 
reveal  the  almost  hypnotic  credulity  of  some  new  converts. 

Persons  who  may  be  the  embodiment  of  selfishness  show 
a  broadening  of  the  horizon  most  plainly  in  this  particular, 
and  come  into  close  sympathy  with  the  world  outside.  The 
convert  feels  himself  to  be  a  part  of  a  wider  life  for  which  he 
must  work,  and  for  which  he  feels  a  great  attachment.  He 
is  capable  of  remarkable  self-sacrifice  which  may  show  it- 
self in  connection  with  the  greater  freedom,  spoken  of  above, 
and  may  really  be  a  large  factor  in  bringing  it  about. 

Coupled  with  this,  and  what  may  seem  at  first  to  be  a 
contradictory  principle,  is  an  awakening  of  self.  The  self- 
consciousness  is  magnified,  and  the  convert  feels  his  impor- 

1  J.  H.  Leuba,  A  Study  in  the  Psychology  oj  Religious  Phenomena, 
American  Journal  oj  Psychology,  VII. 


25o  CONVERSION 

tance.  This  does  not  take  the  form  of  being  the  centre  of 
selfish  activities,  but  of  the  advancement  of  the  world  along 
the  road  of  righteousness.  Manhood  asserts  itself;  he  is  no 
longer  held  in  bondage;  he  is  master  not  servant,  he  is  ruler 
not  serf.  One  may  easily  see  that  the  form  of  the  awaken- 
ing of  self  does  not  minister  to  selfishness,  but  rather  anni- 
hilates it.  The  lack  of  selfishness  is  noticed  in  the  changed 
attitude  toward  family  and  friends.  All  the  altruistic  feel- 
ings and  impulses  are  reinforced,  the  natural  affections  are 
stirred,  and  the  duty  to  the  state  as  well  as  that  to  the  indi- 
vidual is  recognized. 

A  characteristic  of  the  new  life,  we  might  say  a  part  also 
of  the  conversion  process,  is  a  revival  of  cheerfulness,  cour- 
age, and  hope.  This  is  closely  connected  with  the  feeling 
of  newness.  Just  what  form  these  post-crisis  feelings  will 
take  depends  on  the  temperament  of  the  individual.  The 
moral  failures  of  the  past  are  turned  into  successes  and  the 
future  is  bright  and  promising.  The  coward  of  yesterday  is 
the  hero  of  to-day,  he  fears  neither  men  nor  demons;  he  is 
strong  in  his  newly  found  love  and  friendships,  and  unbroken 
in  his  determination  and  hope.  These  aspirations  give  him 
confidence  in  himself  and  he  knows  he  can  accomplish  what 
before  he  thought  impossible.  He  expects  to  do  much  good, 
and  the  expectancy  with  which  he  starts  out  is  the  harbinger 
of  the  result.  This  confidence  which  he  has  in  himself  is 
largely  due  to  the  anticipation  of  help  from  God,  which  help, 
according  to  his  testimony,  is  duly  provided.  He  expects 
to  be  guided  in  a  manner  which  shall  lead  him  away  from 
temptation,  and  to  be  given  strength  to  overcome  sinful  im- 
pulses; this  he  finds  realized  in  his  life.  To  say  that  this  is 
suggestion  is  probably  true,  but  to  say  that  it  is  suggestion 
onlv,  is  doing  violence  to  the  united  testimony  of  thousands 
whose  evidence  is  as  valuable  as  any  in  the  land. 

One  of  the  chief  consequences  of  conversion,  and  what  un- 


CONVERSION  251 

doubtedly  seems  the  most  miraculous  one,  is  the  complete 
annulling  of  the  lower  temptations.  The  fact  is  marvellous, 
but  none  the  less  true,  as  may  be  shown  by  references  to 
many  cases.  In  many  incidents  the  temptation  which  has 
been  the  strongest  and  threatened  to  wreck  the  life,  has  been 
entirely  eliminated  and  never  appeared  again.  Three 
reasons  may  be  given  why  conversion  is  such  a  potent  factor 
in  overcoming  the  grossest  and  most  tenacious  sins.  In 
the  first  place  and  most  important,  it  stimulates  a  real  de- 
sire for  reform.  This  is  the  sine  qua  non  for  overcoming 
any  sin.  This  desire  to  be  helped  may  well  be  classed  as  a 
part  of  conversion,  but  the  part  that  is  antecedent.  In 
preaching  and  all  religious  teaching,  motives  for  reform 
are  prominent  contents,  and  are  very  appropriate  to  those 
suffering  from  gross  temptations.  "Doubtless  when  there 
has  been  waywardness,  and  one  has  grown  habitually  sinful, 
the  most  efficacious  way  of  rescue  is  to  picture  the  fate  of  con- 
tinuance in  sin,  to  throw  the  person  back  on  himself,  to  lead  him 
to  see  the  blackness  of  sin  as  contrasted  with  the  beauty  of 
holiness,  and  make  the  break  unavoidable,  sharp,  and  final."1 

The  second  reason  why  conversion  is  so  efficacious  in 
overcoming  temptation  and  sin  is  that  after  conversion  the 
subjective  and  objective  associations  are  changed.  The 
convert  has  an  entirely  new  set  of  friends  and  acquaintances, 
who  have  proved  their  friendship  for  him,  and  with  them 
he  spends  every  spare  moment;  their  words  and  lives  are  a 
constant  source  of  encouragement  and  strength  to  him. 
His  leisure  is  spent  either  at  church  or  some  other  religious 
gathering,  in  an  endeavor  to  assist  some  one  in  the  Christian 
life,  or  in  some  philanthropic  work.  All  external  associations 
have  a  tendency  to  assist  rather  than  to  hinder  him.  Add 
to  this  the  power  of  subjective  associations.  His  mind  is 
no  longer  occupied  with  the  thoughts  of  sin,  but  the  events  of 

1 E.  D.  Starbuck,  The  Psychology  oj  Religion,  p.  88. 


252  CONVERSION 

the  new  experience  fill  his  thoughts,  and  his  work  in  and  for 
the  church  leaves  him  no  time  to  long  for  the  "flesh  pots  of 
Egypt."  Associations  objective  and  subjective  are  a  con- 
stant assistance. 

The  third  reason  is  that  religious  conversion  not  only  de- 
stroys the  desire  for  sin,  but  it  provides  an  emotional  substi- 
tute. We  must  recognize  that  certain  forms  of  sinful  in- 
dulgence, alcoholic  intoxication  for  instance,  provide  a 
pleasure  which  is  intense  in  its  nature.  This  is  true  of  the 
pleasures  of  all  the  so-called  lower  passions,  because  of  their 
being  confined  to  one  kind  of  expression  which  never  va- 
ries; in  addition  to  this  the  pleasure  occupies  but  a  small 
portion  of  the  life.  As  far  as  intensity  is  concerned,  re- 
ligion or  any  other  form  of  the  higher  pleasures  cannot,  ex- 
cept under  abnormal  conditions,  hope  to  vie  with  the  lower 
ones.  Wherein,  then,  does  the  religious  life  excel?  Not 
in  intensity,  that  is  sure;  but  in  extensity,  this  being  true  of 
the  higher  pleasures  generally.  There  is  no  condition  of  life 
in  which  the  religious  pleasures  cannot  be  realized,  for  re- 
ligious conversion  embraces  not  one  set  of  passions,  but  the 
whole  man.  Body  and  soul  respond,  the  variation  of  ex- 
pression is  endless,  and  all  associations  of  the  mind  lead  to 
the  spiritual  life.  The  idea  of  a  religious  faculty  or  sense 
having  been  abolished,  it  should  be  recognized  that  there 
is  no  experience  so  comprehensive  in  its  scope  as  that  of 
religion.  Here  we  see  that  the  "expulsive  power  of  a  new 
affection," '  especially  of  a  religious  character,  has  its  virtue 
in  the  fact  that  even  if  deficient  in  intensity  as  compared 
with  the  lower  passions,  it  ministers  to  the  whole  man,  and 
thus  excels  any  other  pleasure  in  extensity. 

In  cases  of  sudden  conversion  the  will  has  a  real  part,  al- 
though at  times  it  may  be  small.  The  volitional  effort  in  the 
direction  of  the  good  influences  all  the  other  mental  faculties, 

1  See  Thomas  Chalmers'  sermon  on  this  subject. 


CONVERSION  253 

and  gives  direction  to  the  turn  which  the  whole  self  is  to 
take;  consciously,  as  well  as  subconsciously,  its  work  is 
valuable  and  shows  in  every  part  of  the  process.  While 
some  investigators,  Ribot  for  example,  give  the  will  little  or 
no  part  in  the  process,  and  liken  conversion  to  a  fixed  idea 
or  irresistible  impulse,  it  certainly  has  a  real  work  to  do. 
Irresistible  impulse  and  conversion  are  undoubtedly  allied 
phenomena  in  some  respects,  but  there  is  more  conscious 
purpose  and  definite  will  displayed  in  conversion,  and  in 
the  general  processes  there  seems  to  be  a  well-defined  line 
of  demarcation.  Subconscious  processes  are  truly  at  work, 
but  occasionally  they  rise  into  conscious  will,  which  puts  into 
action  new  forces  tending  to  harmonize  and  readjust  the 
old  mental  life.  The  will  has  its  effect  upon  the  subconscious 
process  which,  in  turn,  affects  the  will.  The  psychology  of 
conversion  cannot  be  understood  without  a  recognition  of 
the  reciprocal  action  of  these  two  factors.  The  conscious 
and  subconscious  factors  rarely  act  separately  in  conversion, 
if  they  ever  do. 

In  the  volitional  type  of  conversion,  the  will  is  far  more 
prominent,  as  the  designation  would  imply.  These  cases  are 
fought  out  rather  than  surrendered,  and  are  therefore  more 
gradual  than  the  surrender  type.  There  may  be  a  com- 
bination of  the  two  when  the  effort  has  been  the  cause  of  the 
subsequent  awakening  which  has  come  to  fructification 
subconsciously  and  suddenly.  At  any  rate,  while  the  ex- 
tremes of  the  two  types  are  easily  distinguished  and  classified, 
they  tend  to  become  indistinguishable  in  the  milder  cases. 
In  addition  to  this  we  must  recognize  that  it  is  not  the  presence 
of  one  factor  and  the  absence  of  the  other  which  are  the  stand- 
ard of  division  into  the  two  types,  but  it  is  a  matter  of  the  per- 
centage of  each  which  is  the  basis  of  classification,  for  in  the 
volitional  cases  there  is  some  surrender,  and  surrender  cases 
are  not  devoid  of  volition. 


254  CONVERSION 

While  we  recognize  these  two  main  types,  to  neither  of 
which  a  person  completely  conforms,  we  must  also  realize 
that  some  few  persons  are  unable  to  fit  into  the  conversion 
scheme  at  all  on  account  of  temperament,  and  either  go 
through  life  without  such  experience,  or  else  perhaps,  through 
some  sudden  and  unaccountable  revulsion  of  temperament, 
come  into  the  condition  late  in  life,  where  it  becomes  a  possi- 
bility. The  important  question  from  the  standpoint  of 
Christianity  is  not  the  method  by  which  the  result  was  brought 
about,  but  the  character  of  the  result  attained.  Some  have 
reached  their  religious  ideals  through  prosaic  intellectual 
processes,  as  when  one  searched  for  intellectual  consistency; 
others  have  found  it  through  a  clarification  of  the  feelings. 
Whatever  mental  factors  may  be  in  use,  the  key-note  is  the 
union  of  the  mind  in  its  change,  and  growth  from  a  life  of 
self  to  one  of  service.  Connected  with  the  inquiry  as  to 
what  was  attained  is  the  related  question  as  to  how  long  it 
lasts.  The  volitional  type  is  undoubtedly  more  permanent, 
but  the  lasting  quality  of  the  self-surrender  type  depends  on 
the  circumstances  connected  with  it,  those  cases  resulting 
from  the  sensational  revival  being,  as  a  rule,  far  less  per- 
manent. It  is  noticeable  that  the  idea  of  instantaneous  con- 
version and  that  of  final  perseverance  are  paradoxical,  but 
we  recognize,  of  course,  that  conversion  is  but  the  beginning 
of  the  change  which  the  final  perseverance  must  consum- 
mate. The  germ  of  permanence  should  be  in  the  conversion, 
else  it  is  undoubtedly  a  failure. 

There  seems  to  be  not  the  least  doubt  that  the  subcon- 
sciousness is  an  important  factor  in  the  process  of  conver- 
sion. To  say  this  is  only  to  state  a  fact  which  confirms  one 
of  our  main  contentions,  viz.,  that  religion  deals  with  the 
whole  man;  but  to  say  that  conversion  has  to  deal  with  the 
subconscious  only  is  to  misrepresent  the  facts.  With  like 
stimuli  it  is  known  that  persons  react  differently  on  account 


CONVERSION  255 

of  the  difference  in  the  operation  of  their  mental  processes — 
in  their  temperaments,  as  we  say.  Persons  who  have  sudden 
conversions  have  them  rather  than  the  gradual  ones,  not  be- 
cause it  just  happens  that  way,  but  because  they  are  so  con- 
stituted that  religious  influences  react  in  that  way.  If  we 
know  the  person  psychologically  we  can  prophesy  quite  cor- 
rectly the  type  of  his  conversion,  whether  it  be  sudden  or 
gradual,  quiet  or  excited;  this  is  simply  saying  that  of  con- 
version we  may  know  scientific  facts  which  admit  of  classi- 
fication. The  divine  element  is  not  eliminated  because  we 
can  do  this;  this  has  no  bearing  on  the  subject,  for  whether 
the  power  which  causes  conversion  is  autonomous  or  divine, 
it  conforms  to  one  type  when  it  passes  through  one  variety  of 
mould.  It  is  rather  an  argument  for  the  divine  element 
that  it  is  orderly. 

Professor  Coe  has  made  the  most  exhaustive  examinia- 
tion  of  this  subject  of  which  I  know.  He  gives  three  sets 
of  factors  favorable  to  the  attainment  of  a  striking,  and 
therefore  of  a  sudden,  religious  transformation.  They  are 
as  follows:  a  certain  temperament,  expectation,  and  a  ten- 
dency to  automatisms  and  passive  suggestibility.  Given 
these  three  known  quantities,  the  unknown,  the  type  of 
conversion,  can  be  predicted.  In  the  cases  which  were  thor- 
oughly examined,  those  who  experienced  a  great  transforma- 
tion, almost  without  exception,  expected  to  change.  Of 
these,  70  per  cent,  were  of  such  a  temperament  that  sensi- 
bility predominated,  12  per  cent,  had  intellect  in  the  ascen- 
dency, and  18  per  cent.  will.  Further,  of  these,  82  per  cent, 
were  of  sanguine  or  melancholic  temperament.  We  there- 
fore see  from  these  investigations  that  the  temperament 
favorable  to  sudden  or  striking  conversions  is  sanguine  or 
melancholic,  with  sensibility  predominating.  The  majority 
of  these  had  exhibited  some  automatic  phenomena,  as,  e.  g., 
hallucinations,   and   these   correspond   almost  exactly  with 


256  CONVERSION 

the  "passives"  in  hypnotic  experiments.  Of  course,  the 
number  of  cases  examined  was  small,  and  necessarily  so, 
on  account  of  the  thoroughness  of  the  examination;  and  al- 
though there  were  too  few  to  warrant  us  in  making  too  sweep- 
ing a  generalization,  they  correspond  so  closely  with  what 
we  should  naturally  expect,  that  it  must  have  considerable 
weight.1 

The  expectation  factor  is  magnified  when  we  consider 
that  those  who  experience  a  striking  conversion  usually 
are  found  in  churches  where  this  is  preached.  For  example, 
Wesley  found  that  of  his  652  followers  in  London  every  one 
had  experienced  a  sudden  and  more  or  less  striking  change. 
Some  other  churches  in  London  might  have  reported  that 
of  the  same  number  of  members  not  one  had  experienced 
this  sudden  change.  The  difference  would  be  in  the  diver- 
gent proclamatio'ns  of  the  method  of  approach  to  God. 
The  automatic  phenomena  may  be  of  innumerable  varieties, 
some  of  which  we  considered  when  studying  revivals.  One 
of  the  most  frequent  forms  of  sensory  automatisms  is  called 
by  the  name  of  photism — an  hallucinatory  luminous  phe- 
nomenon. This  may  take  the  form  of  a  blinding  flash,  a 
brilliant,  widely  diffused  light,  or  some  luminous  figure. 
The  experiences  of  Paul,  Constantine,  and  Finney  are  ex- 
amples of  this.2 

With  the  convert  who  has  come  into  life  in  a  sudden  and 
abrupt  way,  the  subconscious  element  in  the  process  is  un- 
doubtedly large.  This  is  shown  by  the  comparative  scarcity 
or  absence  of  the  intellectual  and  volitional  element  at  the 
time  0}  the  climax,  and  the  inability  of  the  convert  to  give  his 
reasons  for  the  change,  the  very  little  self-direction  at  the 
time,  and  the  abruptness  of  the  decision  with  few  or  no 
motives.    Of  what  this  process,  this  development,  in  the  sub- 

1  G.  A.  Coe,  The  Spiritual  Life,  pp.  109-150. 

2  W.  James,  The  Varieties  oj  Religious  Experience,  pp.  251  fi. 


CONVERSION  257 

conscious  area  is,  and  its  cause,  we  are  entirely  ignorant, 
and  our  guesses  will  depend  upon  our  point  of  view.  If 
there  is  a  divine  element  in  conversion  it  must  come  largely 
through  the  subconsciousness,  and  especially  is  this  true  in 
cases  of  sudden  conversion.  This  being  so,  we  must  recog- 
nize a  similarity  between  these  cases  and  hypnotism,  whether 
we  wish  to  or  not ;  in  fact,  some  persons  in  relating  their  con- 
version experiences  necessarily  couple  with  them  an  hypnotic 
element,  as  e.  g.,  "It  seems  to  me  now  hypnotic."1 

There  has  been  a  great  objection  to  this  relationship 
among  some  religious  people;  not  because  they  were  in  a 
position  to  confute  the  statement,  but  because  they  considered 
it  detrimental  to  Christianity,  on  account  of  the  ill-repute  of 
hypnotism.  On  the  other  hand,  because  some  persons,  not 
particularly  jealous  for  the  good  name  of  Christianity,  have 
seen  a  relation  between  conversion  and  hypnotism,  they  have 
identified  the  two.  The  position  which  appeals  to  me  is 
the  mean;  I  recognize  both  the  similarity  and  the  difference. 
True,  we  see  the  almost  total  similarity  in  some  revivals 
where  methods  are  employed  which  a  trained  hypnotist 
might  eschew;  but  it  is  unfair  to  class  all  conversions  as 
revival  conversions,  or  all  revival  conversions  as  of  this  ob- 
jectionable stamp.  It  is  not  the  use  but  the  abuse  of  the  sug- 
gestive element  in  revivals  which  is  objectionable.  The  same 
thing  can  be  said  of  many  other  forces  that  are  at  times 
abused.  For  instance,  there  is  a  certain  authority  which  re- 
ligion can  justly  claim  on  account  of  its  nature;  the  use  of 
this  is  justifiable,  but  oh!  what  abuses  have  been  wrought 
in  its  name.  Mr.  Granger  says  concerning  hypnotism  and 
conversion : 

"We  are  now  prepared  to  take  up  a  topic  referred  to  be- 
fore— conversion  by  hypnotic  suggestion.  The  reader  will 
perhaps  remember  that  in  other  kinds  of  conversion  there 

1  E.  D.  Starbuck,  The  Psychology  0}  Religion,  p.  51. 


258  CONVERSION 

was  a  more  or  less  prolonged  period  of  preparation  for  the 
change,  as  the  soul  came  to  harmony  of  intellectual  judgment, 
or  to  peace  after  stress.  As  against  these  modes,  instan- 
taneous conversion  seems  explicable  by  saying  that  the  mind 
is  occupied  by  a  suggestion  when  it  is  in  a  suggestible  state 
— when,  that  is,  it  is  subject  to  neurasthenia.  It  is  fortunate, 
of  course,  that  the  same  nervous  weakness  which  lays  a  man 
open  to  control  by  passing  impulses  should  now  and  then 
subject  him  to  a  good  impulse;  but  this  weakness  is  not  a 
normal  state,  and  there  is  something  inexpressibly  repulsive 
in  the  idea  that  the  religious  life  should  necessarily  begin 
in  this  way.     Jesus  did  not  so  view  conversion." * 

I  do  not  feel  the  same  repulsion  concerning  the  matter 
which  Mr.  Granger  apparently  does.  If,  as  some  would  have 
it,  the  hypnotic  or  suggestive  element  were  eliminated,  re- 
ligion would  lose  thereby.  We  do  not  recognize  the  part 
which  the  subconsciousness  plays  in  our  every-day  life,  or  we 
should  see  that  to  eliminate  this  would  be  to  confine  religion 
to  a  lesser  part  of  man's  nature,  instead  of  its  holding  its 
present  important  position  of  affecting  the  whole  man, 
conscious  and  subconscious.  If  this  is  a  weakness,  as  Mr. 
Granger  says,  it  is  a  weakness  which  he  shares  with  the  rest 
of  mankind,  for  no  one  is  free  from  it;  and  however  much  it 
may  be  deprecated,  its  importance  in  the  mental  processes 
is  profound. 

If  it  is  true  that  when  God  works  directly  in  man  He 
works  through  the  subconsciousness,  these  subconscious 
factors  should  be  lauded  rather  than  deprecated.  Further, 
the  wisdom  of  having  these  subconscious  factors  so  prominent 
in  conversion  is  apparent,  because  of  the  greater  stability 
of  the  change  thereby.  Were  it  simply  in  the  mental  and 
not  deeply  rooted  in  the  physical,  the  passing  change  of  cir- 
cumstances would  bring  about  a  corresponding  change  in 

1  F.  Granger,  The  Soul  of  a  Christian,  p.  117. 


CONVERSION  259 

the  desires,  and  what  promised  to  become  a  permanent 
change,  would  be  temporary  only.  Here  is  to  be  found  the  dis- 
tinction between  the  purely  hypnotic  pseudo-conversion,  and 
the  real  conversion.  When  the  subject  awakes  he  wonders 
what  it  all  meant,  and  laughs  at  the  part  he  played  in  the 
revival;  or  else  it  may  last  for  a  week  or  a  month  and  then 
fade  away.  But  the  true  conversion  takes  a  permanent 
hold  of  the  whole  man.  Nor  can  I  agree  with  Mr.  Granger 
that  Jesus  did  not  recognize,  or  at  least  use,  the  subconscious 
elements  in  both  conversion  and  the  cures  performed  by 
Him. 

Early  in  this  chapter  it  was  said  that  little  could  be  defi- 
nitely stated  concerning  the  divine  element  in  conversion, 
since  by  its  nature  it  could  not  be  scientifically  analyzed. 
But  because  we  cannot  analyze  it,  it  does  not  follow  that  it 
is  unreasonable  to  believe  in  it.  We  can  do  no  better  at  this 
point  than  to  present  two  brief  quotations  from  Professor 
James. 

"To  plead  the  organic  causation  of  the  religious  state  of 
mind,  then,  in  refutation  of  its  claim  to  possess  superior 
spiritual  value,  is  quite  illogical  and  arbitrary,  unless  one 
have  already  worked  out  in  advance  some  psycho-physical 
theory  connecting  spiritual  values  in  general  with  determi- 
nate sorts  of  physiological  change.  Otherwise  none  of  our 
thoughts  and  feelings,  not  even  our  scientific  doctrines,  nor 
even  our  dis-beliefs,  could  retain  any  value  as  revelations  of 
the  truth,  for  every  one  of  them  without  exception  flows  from 
the  state  of  their  possessor's  body  at  the  time." 

"Psychology  and  religion  are  both  in  perfect  harmony 
up  to  this  point,  since  both  admit  that  there  are  forces  seem- 
ingly outside  of  the  conscious  individual  that  bring  redemp- 
tion to  his  life.  Nevertheless  psychology,  defining  these 
forces  as  'subconscious,'  and  speaking  of  their  effect  as  due 
to  'incubation'  or  'cerebration,'  implies  that  they  do  not 


2<5o  CONVERSION 

transcend  the  individual's  personality;  and  herein  she  diverges 
from  Christian  theology,  which  insists  that  they  are  direct 
supernatural  operations  of  the  Deity."1 

The  mistake  is  frequently  made  of  holding  that,  if  we  have 
explained  the  way  in  which  the  mind  operates  in  conversion, 
we  have  thereby  eliminated  the  supernatural — or  rather  we 
should  say,  the  divine  element.  As  well  might  we  say  when 
we  have  described  a  law  of  nature,  we  have  proved  therefore 
that  nature  requires  no  power  to  operate  the  elements  which 
conform  to  this  law,  simply  because  we  know  how  it  is  oper- 
ated; or  that  when  we  know  how  the  machine  works,  it 
therefore  needs  no  power  to  operate  it.  Pfleiderer,  from  the 
standpoint  of  philosophy,  speaks  very  decidedly  as  follows: 

"This  wonderful  change  is  not  arbitrarily  brought  about 
by  man  himself,  but  experienced  as  a  thing  that  has  happened 
to  him;  it  appears  to  him  as  the  operation  of  a  higher  power, 
as  the  gift  of  undeserved  divine  favor  or  grace.  And  is 
this  not  in  truth  the  case  ?  Careful  thought,  in  fact,  can  do 
nothing  but  confirm  what  the  believer  holds  as  a  truth  re- 
quiring no  proof."2 

To  the  person  experiencing  conversion  it  seems  as  though 
some  power,  quite  different  from  any  ordinary  experience, 
came  into  the  life.  But  is  this  so?  The  testimony  of  the 
converted  person,  even  admitting  that  it  is  not  always  the 
best,  ought  to  be  worth  more  than  the  opinion  of  one  who 
is  unfamiliar  with  religious  experience  and  simply  theorizes 
concerning  it.  In  most  cases  the  feeling  is  that  this  is  an 
external  power,  a  testimony  of  experience  directly  opposed 
to  the  psychological  theory,  as  we  may  call  it.  Again  recog- 
nizing the  objection  of  so  many  persons  being  unable  to  read 
aright  their  psychical  experiences,  yet  there  is  no  testimony 
to  the  contrary,  and  the  experience  of  those  who  witness  con- 

1  W.  James,  The  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  pp.  14  and  an. 
*  O.  Pfleiderer,  The  Philosophy  0}  Religion,  IV,  p.  128. 


CONVERSION  261 

cerning  it  is  more  valuable  than  the  theories  of  others. 
Those  who  claim  that  conversion  is  a  direct  act  will  find  it 
admissible  from  the  psychological  standpoint,  especially  if 
they  hold  to  the  theory  that  God  works  directly  on  man 
through  the  subconsciousness. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

AGE 

"A  man  loves  the  meat  in  his  youth  that  he  cannot  endure  in  his  age." 
— Shakespeare. 

In  discovering  that  children  are  not  little  men  or  women, 
we  have  found  that  religion  cannot  be  presented  to  them  in 
the  same  way  that  it  can  to  adults,  and  produce  the  best 
results.  The  juvenile  type  of  Christianity  must,  therefore, 
differ  from  the  adult  and  adolescent  types.  What  this  differ- 
ence shall  be  is  determined  by  the  difference  between  the 
mind  of  the  child  and  that  of  the  adolescent  or  adult.  We 
can  no  longer  respond  to  a  demand  for  the  same  type  of 
religion  for  all  ages,  nor  is  the  difference  to  be  simply  that 
the  child  religion  is  to  be  an  incomplete  and  imperfect  phase 
of  that  which  is  to  occupy  the  mind  when  he  matures;  but  it 
must  be  the  natural  expression  of  the  child's  mind  according 
to  its  way  of  functioning.  We  have  every  reason  to  think 
that  the  religious  impulse  develops  as  naturally  in  the  child 
life  as  the  social  impulse,  and  that  careful  nurture  is  the  most 
important  factor  in  dealing  with  children  if  we  wish  to  aid  in 
a  decision  for  righteousness  and  church  membership  at  an 
early  age — probably  in  early  adolescence.  Our  aid  should 
be  not  so  much  to  inform  as  to  guide,  for  growth  rather  than 
learning  is  required  in  early  childhood. 

If  the  past  has  taught  us  nothing  else  it  has  furnished  us 
with  some  "horrible  examples,"  and  shown  us  very  plainly 
what  not  to  do.  A  few  of  these  may  be  negatively  instructive. 
Rev.  Carlton  Hurd,  a  stalwart  New  England  divine  who 

262 


AGE  263 

lived  about  a  century  ago,  has  given  us  a  spiritual  biography 
of  his  daughter,  Marion  Lyle  Hurd,  who  was  supplied  with 
an  orthodox  and  plenary  religious  experience  at  a  tender  age. 

"  Marion  died  at  the  age  of  four  years.  When  she  was  eight 
months  old  her  parents  read  to  her  from  leaflets  for  Sab- 
bath-schools. They  explained  to  her  when  she  was  a  year 
and  a  half  old,  in  answer  to  questions  from  her,  the  origin 
and  use  of  the  Bible.  They  noted  that  when  she  had  reached 
the  age  of  two  she  was  'seriously  exercised  with  religious 
things.'  At  that  time  she  would  sometimes  kneel  down 
and  would  say: 

" '  Mother,  I  am  going  to  pray.    What  shall  I  say  to  God  ? ' 

"'Ask  God  to  make  you  good  and  give  you  a  new  heart.' 

"'What  is  a  new  heart,  mother?' 

'"This  was  familiarly  explained,'  writes  her  father,  'and 
at  the  same  time  she  was  particularly  informed  of  the  way 
of  salvation  by  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  steps  God  had  taken 
to  save  sinners.  We  endeavored  to  impress  upon  her  mind 
that  she  was  a  sinner  and  needed  forgiveness,  and  God  would 
forgive  her  sins  and  give  her  a  new  heart  through  Jesus 
Christ.'  That  from  this  time  'she  chiefly  devoted  her  few 
remaining  days  to  the  acquisition  of  religious  knowledge,' 
her  father  finds  to  be  a  'consoling  reflection.'  He  adds, 
with  conscientious  caution,  'If  she  was  truly  converted,  we 
cannot  tell  when  the  change  took  place.'  Her  parents 
hoped,  however,  after  she  had  died  two  years  later,  that  she 
had  'entered  the  city  of  our  God.'  Though  they  had  no 
means  of  perceiving  the  approach  of  the  disease  of  the  brain 
which  occasioned  her  death,  they  realized  that  the  sensitive- 
ness and  activity  of  her  mind  warned  them  'to  lead  Marion 
with  the  gentlest  hand,  to  make  her  way  as  quiet  and  even 
as  possible.'  In  this  third  year  the  books  which  were  read 
to  her  included  Parley's  Geography  and  Astronomy,  Gal. 
laudet's  Child's  Book  of  the  Soul,  and  Daily  Food  for  Chris- 


264  AGE 

tians.  In  her  fourth  year  her  books,  which  she  read  to  her- 
self, were,  besides  the  Bible,  Child's  Book  on  Repentance, 
Life  of  Moses,  Family  Hymns,  Union  Hymns,  Daily  Food, 
Lessons  for  Sabbath-Schools,  Henry  Milnor,  Watls's  Divine 
Songs,  Nathan  W.  Dickerman,  Memoir  of  John  Mooney 
Mead,  Todd's  Lectures  to  Children,  and  Pilgrim's  Progress. 
As  these  titles  indicate  she  was  '  particularly  fond  of  reading 
the  biography  of  good  little  children.'  Of  all  her  books, 
however,  Bunyan's  masterpiece  seems  to  have  been  the  most 
instructive.  Her  knowledge  of  the  allegory  was  tested  by 
questions.  She  knew  why  Christian  went  through  the  river 
while  Ignorance  was  ferried  over.  She  knew  what  was  meant 
by  the  Slough  of  Despond  and  the  losing  of  the  Burden. 
'When  we  come  to  Christ,'  said  she,  'we'  (not  Christians, 
or  people,  or  you,  but  we)  'lose  our  sins.'  And  she  sought 
from  her  father  a  certificate  to  enter  the  City.  'We  cannot 
doubt,'  comments  her  father,  'Marion  understood  much 
of  what  was  intended  to  be  taught  in  that  book,  which 
Phillip  says,  in  his  life  of  John  Bunvan,  contains  the  essence 
of  all  theology.  Certainly  she  was  familiar  with  every  step  of 
the  pathway  of  holiness  trod  by  Christian,  from  the  city 
of  Destruction  through  the  river  of  death  to  the  Celestial 
City.'  And  later,  he  adds  that  she  evinced  'a  familiar 
acquaintance  with  all  parts  of  that  allegory  and  its  doctrines.' 
Though  he  makes  clear  in  his  letter  that  'it  is  not  the  piety 
of  the  full-grown  and  mature  Christian  that  we  are  to  look 
for  in  a  child,'  he  makes  equally  clear  that  in  all  essential 
particulars  her  piety  was  complete.  It  included  even  a  re- 
gard for  the  significance  of  eternal  reward  and  penalty. 
From  Doddridge's  Expositor,  both  by  examining  the  pictures 
and  reading  'the  sacred  text,'  under  the  direction  of  her 
father,  she  derived  many  ideas  of  the  crucifixion  and  resur- 
rection of  Jesus,  and  the  general  resurrection  at  the  end  of 
the  world.     'Marion,'  continues  the  narrative,  'after  closely 


AGE  265 

inspecting  the  countenances  given  in  those  pictures,  both  to 
the  just  and  unjust,  in  the  resurrection  would  say: 

'"Oh!  how  the  wicked  look  when  they  rise  from  the  dead  I' 
adding  in  a  serious  and  solemn  manner, 

'"There  is  a  dreadful  hell, 
And  everlasting  pains, 
Where  sinners  must  with  devils  dwell, 
In  darkness,  fire,  and  chains.' 

"Indeed,  from  the  earlier  months,  life  after  death,  'the 
happiness  of  the  good  and  the  misery  of  the  wicked,'  were  top- 
ics of  'frequent  and  delightful  conversation  with  her  parents.' 

"In  her  last  hours  she  expressed  her  assurance  that  she 
would  be  saved,  and  her  last  audible  words  were,  '  I  am  not 
afraid  to  die.'  Thus  ended  this  brief  life  of  four  years  and 
twenty-six  days."1 

When  some  of  Jonathan  Edwards'  ministerial  contempo- 
raries expostulated  with  him  about  throwing  children  into 
paroxysms  of  fear  with  talk  about  hell  fire  and  eternal 
damnation,  he  thought  them  weak.  "But  if  those  who  com- 
plain so  loudly  of  this,"  he  remarks,  "really  believe,  what  is 
the  general  profession  of  the  country,  viz.,  that  all  are  by 
nature  the  children  of  wrath  and  heirs  of  hell;  and  that  every 
one  who  has  not  been  born  again,  whether  he  be  young  or  old, 
is  exposed,  every  moment,  to  eternal  destruction,  under  the 
wrath  of  Almighty  God;  I  say,  if  they  really  believe  this,  then 
such  a  complaint  and  cry  as  this  betrays  a  great  deal  of 
weakness  and  inconsideration.  As  innocent  as  children 
seem  to  be  to  us,  yet,  if  they  are  out  of  Christ,  they  are  not 
so  in  God's  sight,  but  are  young  vipers,  and  are  infinitely 
more  hateful  than  vipers,  and  are  in  a  most  miserable  con- 
dition, as  well  as  grown  persons." 

1  E.    H.    Abbot,    "On    the   Training   of   Parents,"    The    Outlook, 
LXXXVIII,  p.  547  /. 


266  AGE 

The  following  is  an  account  of  how  a  French  priest,  Curate 
of  Notre-Dame-du-Mont,  prepared  children  for  confirma- 
tion and  first  communion.  "On  the  last  day  of  a  'retreat' 
he  would  lock  the  doors  of  the  church  in  which  the  children 
were  assembled  and  forbid  even  the  sexton  to  walk  about. 
The  church  was  then  darkened.  A  pall,  stretched  out  before 
the  sanctuary,  bore  a  crucifix  and  two  holy  candles.  In 
this  artfully  prepared  place  he  would  preach  a  sixty  minutes' 
discourse  on  Christ's  Passion,  describing  with  minute  real- 
ism every  detail  of  the  crucifixion,  the  thorns  penetrating 
into  the  flesh,  the  blood  trickling  down  the  face,  the  moral 
anguish  of  the  loving  Savior.  Before  he  was  half  through 
the  sermon,  sobs  would  break  out  and  spread  among  the 
terrified  children.     In  this  state  they  were  sent  to  confession."1 

In  a  collection  of  hymns  for  children,  published  in  1852, 
we  find  the  following: 

"Little  children  stop  and  think! 
Turn  away  from  ruin's  brink!" 

Another  hymn  in  this  collection,  entitled  "Motives  to  Early 
Piety,"  gives  some  idea  of  the  former  religious  teaching  of 
children.    It  is  as  follows : 

"Almighty  God,  thy  piercing  eye 

Strikes  through  the  shades  of  night, 
And  our  most  secret  actions  lie 
All  open  to  thy  sight. 

"There's  not  a  sin  that  we  commit, 
Or  idle  word  we  say, 
But  in  thy  dreadful  book  'tis  writ, 
Against  the  judgment  day. 

1  These  last  two  quotations  are  from  J.  H.  Leuba,  "Fear  and  Awe 
in  Religion,"  A?nerican  Journal  0}  Religious  Psychology  and  Educa- 
tion, II,  p.  6  /. 


AGE  267 

"And  must  the  crimes  that  I  have  done 
Be  read  and  published  there? 
Be  all  exposed  before  the  sun, 
While  men  and  angels  hear? 

"Lord,  at  thy  foot  ashamed  I  lie, 
Upward  I  dare  not  look, 
Pardon  my  sins  before  I  die, 
And  blot  them  from  thy  book!"1 

I  wish  it  were  possible  to  say  that  trying  to  scare  children 
into  accepting  adult  religion  ended  with  Jonathan  Edwards, 
or  even  a  half  century  ago,  but  unhappily  this  is  not  so. 
The  so-called  doctrine  of  "original  sin"  has  been  a  sweet 
morsel  in  the  mouths  of  many  pastors  and  most  revivalists. 
No  child  is  too  young  to  be  a  willing  servant  of  the  devil, 
and  conversion  of  the  adult  type  is  the  only  cure,  according 
to  these  soul  physicians.     Notice  the  following: 

"I  may  just  mention,  that  as  this  talk  was  going  on,  there 
was  a  little  boy  in  the  corner  of  the  room,  so  little  a  fellow 
that  he  had  just  emerged  from  the  condition  of  petticoats, 
and  had  not  reached  the  dignity  of  a  jacket;  his  whole  cos- 
tume being  in  one  piece  from  his  neck  to  his  heels.  He 
was  standing  in  the  corner  of  the  room  and  sobbing  very  hard. 
The  only  idea  that  came  into  my  mind  was  that  the  little 
fellow  was  sleepy,  and  that  he  wanted  to  go  home,  as  it  was 
now  about  ten  o'clock.  I  said  to  one  of  the  girls  that  he 
was  wearied,  and  that  some  one  had  better  take  him  home. 
She  said,  'Oh,  no,  sir;  he  is  not  wearied,  he  is  greetin'  about 
his  sins.'  I  went  to  the  little  fellow,  and  I  spoke  to  him; 
however,  he  was  really  past  speaking  to.  He  was  in  a  state  of 
great  distress,  whatever  was  the  cause.  I  said  to  one  of  the 
girls,  '  Perhaps  you  could  speak  to  him  better  than  I  could ' ; 
and  she  replied,  'Well,  yes,  sir;  I  will  speak  to  him,  but  he 

1  Quoted  by  G.  A.  Coe,  The  Religion  0}  a  Mature  Mind,  p.  314  /. 


268  AGE 

does  not  belong  to  this  place.'  I  said,  'Indeed!'  'No, 
puir  fellow;  he  has  walked  all  the  way  frae  Prestonpans 
to-night.'  Now  this  was  a  dark,  wintry  night,  and  yet  this 
little  creature  had  walked,  by  himself,  about  four  miles, 
to  get  to  the  Meeting.  I  asked  about  him  the  last  time  I  was 
out.  The  little  girl  told  me  that  she  believed  he  was  going 
on  in  the  right  way." 

"A  few  days  ago  I  found  a  little  boy,  about  eight  years  of 
age,  in  one  of  these  seats  at  the  children's  inquiry  meeting, 
sobbing  aloud.     Said  I, 

'"What's  the  matter,  my  dear  little  fellow?' 

"'Oh,  dear!  I'm  lost!  I'm  lost!  and  I  can't  find 
Jesus!  Oh !  my  wicked  heart !  How  can  I  get  a  new  heart  ? 
I  have  been  so  wicked!  I  have  never  loved  Jesus  at  all! 
I  thought  I  loved  Him,  but  now  I  know  I  never  did.  Will 
He  take  me?'  .  .  . 

"I  have  no  doubt  some  of  the  parents  here  to-day  scarcely 
believe  that  their  children  are  at  enmity  with  the  gracious 
Saviour;  perhaps  they  have  never  found  out  by  experience 
that  the  Bible  is  true,  when  it  says,  'The  heart  is  deceitful 
above  all  things  and  desperately  wicked.'  I  pray  that  they 
may  learn,  as  many  of  you  have  learnt,  that  it  is  a  very  wicked 
thing  not  to  love  that  dear  Jesus  who  'first  loved  us.'  Here 
is  a  letter  from  a  little  boy  whom  I  found,  in  a  children's 
inquiry  meeting  in  Brooklyn,  weeping  and  asking  how  he 
could  get  a  new  heart.  He  says,  '/  thought  I  lovedjesus, 
but  I  found  I  was  a  great  sinner.' " l 

One  source  of  fallacy  is  the  fact  that  primitive  Christianity 
consisted  in  adult  conversion,  and  the  supposition  was  that 
the  modus  operandi  was  the  same  in  old  and  young.  Jesus 
put  adults  and  children  into  two  distinct  classes,  and  era- 

1  E.  P.  Hammond,  The  Conversion  of  Children,  pp.  9  and  76  /.; 
many  similar  cases  might  be  quoted  from  this  and  a  companion  book 
by  the  same  author,  Early  Conversion. 


AGE  269 

phatically  said  that  adults  were  so  different  that  they  would 
have  to  become  as  children  to  be  converted.  We  are  coming 
to  Jesus'  position  again  now  through  the  sciences  of  pedagogy 
and  psychology.  We  recognize  that  young  children  are  neither 
good  nor  bad,  and  that  activity  is  not  sin.  With  proper 
training,  the  natural  development  is  toward  righteousness. 
If  religion  is  an  instinct  peculiar  to  man,  which,  on  account  of 
an  inward  power,  develops  progressively,  then  the  child  grows 
into  a  religious  being  as  he  does  into  a  social  being.  All  nor- 
mal religious  development,  however,  is  dependent  upon  a  nor- 
mal physical  and  psychical  development.  When  children, 
through  training,  are  permitted  to  develop  naturally,  the 
only  conversion  possible  is  that  from  God  to  the  devil; 
people  who  want  their  children  converted  are  either  con- 
demning their  training  or  else  asking  for  a  conversion  to  evil. 
"Total  depravity"  and  "original  sin"  are  relics  of  the  dark 
ages  before  we  knew  God,  yet  how  tenaciously  we  cling  to 
them!  It  is  so  much  easier  to  blame  God  for  our  children's 
deformed  characters  than  it  is  to  acknowledge  our  incorrect 
training. 

The  trouble  is  that  parents  and  teachers  do  not  yet  know 
what  to  expect  from  children  in  respect  to  religion.  They 
try  to  teach  what  they  hope  will  produce  paroxysms  of  re- 
pentance, cataclysmal  conversion,  precocious  prayer-meet- 
ing talk,  and  cant  prayer — anything  which  will  be  an  imi- 
tation of  adult  religion.  Look  at  Paul's  words  which  are 
equally  true  of  child  individuals  or  races.  "And  I,  breth- 
ren, could  not  speak  unto  you  as  unto  spiritual,  but  as  unto 
carnal,  as  unto  babes  in  Christ.  I  fed  you  with  milk,  not 
with  meat;  for  ye  were  not  able  to  bear  it;  nay,  nor  even 
now  are  ye  able."  Milk  not  meat;  it  matters  not  how  at- 
tractively we  may  be  able  to  prepare  the  latter,  it  is  meat 
just  the  same,  and  indigestion  and  injury  inevitably  follow. 

"When  I  was  a  child,  I  spoke  as  a  child,  I  felt  as  a  child, 


270  AGE 

I  thought  as  a  child."  If  this  is  true  of  all  children  they  must 
be  treated  according  to  childish  characteristics.  Train- 
ing in  the  good  life  which  shall  later  be  consummated, 
cultivating  the  roots  in  order  that  in  the  natural  process  of 
growth  the  flower  may  be  more  beautiful  and  the  fruit  more 
perfect,  is  the  secret  of  the  religious  education  of  childhood — 
or  any  other  childhood  education  for  that  matter.  If  we 
would  not  try  to  give  children  their  theology  ready  made, 
but  let  them  make  their  own,  much  trouble  would  be  saved 
them  both  now  and  later.  The  Bible  as  literature,  not  dogma, 
could  not  help  being  exceedingly  attractive  to  children,  and 
no  doubt  of  the  beautiful  stories  which  the  Bible  holds  for 
them  would  be  suggested  or  entertained,  any  more  than  for 
the  great  classics  in  which  they  delight  and  which  they  so 
readily  accept. 

Roughly  speaking,  life  may  be  divided  into  three  periods, 
viz.,  childhood  under  twelve  years  of  age,  adolescence  from 
twelve  to  twenty-four,  and  adult  over  twenty-four.  For 
each  period  the  presentation  and  material  of  religion  must 
be  different.  Each  period  has  its  own  method  of  thought  and 
reaction.  Let  us  first  look  at  the  religion  of  childhood. 
Of  course,  we  must  recognize  that  what  follows  is  supposed 
to  be  general,  but  that  in  real  life  we  find  no  "children  in 
general"  or  "average  children."  No  child  will  conform 
exactly  to  the  description,  and  if  he  did  the  description  would 
be  faulty.  Each  child  is  a  separate  problem.  Faculties 
develop  unevenly,  some  slowly,  some  quickly,  some  prema- 
turely, some  late. 

Childhood  may  be  divided  into  four  equal  periods  of  three 
years  each.  In  fact,  this  is  the  division  in  our  Sunday 
Schools  to-day.  In  the  first  period,  that  of  infancy,  little 
definite  religious  training  is  possible,  but  the  danger  is  that 
parents  may  begin  their  training  too  late.  Some  habits,  not 
definitely  religious,  but  which  have  a  strong  religious  bear- 


AGE  271 

ing  later,  may  be  instilled,  such  as  that  of  obedience.  The 
first  six  years  of  life  is  the  period  of  greatest  physical 
activity,  during  which  a  child  learns  as  many  new  things 
as  he  does  during  all  the  remainder  of  his  life.  He  is  a 
bundle  of  instincts  and  impulses,  chief  of  which  are  restless- 
ness, curiosity,  imitation,  credulity,  love,  fear,  and  wonder. 
His  ideas  are  concrete,  naive,  and  usually,  visual — he  gets 
his  knowledge  through  his  senses  almost  entirely. 

While  all  things  concerning  him  are  important,  his  credulity 
and  concreteness  may  be  especially  noticed.  He  does  not 
discriminate,  he  is  not  critical,  everything  is  accepted  by 
him  as  true;  this  trait  is  also  carried  largely  through  the  next 
period.  Every  truth  is  based  on  the  word  of  parents  or 
Sunday-school  teachers,  and  everything  he  sees  or  hears 
is  accepted.  The  questioning  spirit  which  is  the  breaking 
up  of  this  credulity  starts  shortly  after  eight  with  most  chil- 
dren, but  does  not  reign  until  nearly  the  tenth  year.  The 
inability  to  handle  mental  experiences  in  an  abstract  way 
is  also  characteristic  of  the  following  period,  so  that  these 
two  traits  may  be  handled  together  for  both  periods. 

Perhaps  the  best  comprehension  of  these  can  be  gathered 
from  the  ideas  of  God  which  are  held  by  children  from  three 
to  nine  years  of  age.  Let  me  present  a  few  examples  out  of 
many  available.  "We  mustn't  make  faces  at  the  Heaven- 
Man.  He  will  spank  us;  won't  he?"  "God  lives  up  in 
Heaven  and  takes  care  of  us  all  the  time,  especially  at  night." 
"God  can  see  everything  you  do  and  everything  you  say, 
even  if  you  are  inside  a  house."  "I  fancied  God  to  be  an 
enlarged  father.  He  was  tall  and  massive,  with  a  benig- 
nant face,  long  whiskers,  and  long  white  hair,  and  wore  a 
hat  usually  of  straw."  "A  great  policeman  peering  around 
to  see  what  I  was  at,  and  would  punish  me  for  misdeeds." 
John  Fiske's  experience  may  be  taken  as  typical.  He  says, 
"I  remember  distinctly  the  conception  which  I  had  formed 


272 


AGE 


when  five  years  of  age.  I  imagined  a  narrow  office  just 
over  the  zenith,  with  a  tall  standing-desk  running  lengthwise, 
upon  which  lay  several  open  ledgers  bound  in  coarse  leather. 
There  was  no  roof  over  this  office,  and  the  walls  rose  scarcely 
five  feet  from  the  floor,  so  that  a  person  standing  at  the 
desk  could  look  out  upon  the  whole  world.  There  were 
two  persons  at  the  desk,  and  one  of  them — a  tall,  slender 
man,  of  aquiline  features,  wearing  spectacles,  with  a  pen 
in  his  hand  and  another  behind  his  ear — was  God.  The 
other,  whose  appearance  I  do  not  distinctly  recall,  was  an 
attendant  angel.  Both  were  diligently  watching  the  deeds 
of  men  and  recording  them  in  the  ledgers.  To  my  infant 
mind  this  picture  was  not  grotesque,  but  ineffably  solemn, 
and  the  fact  that  all  my  words  and  acts  were  thus  written 
down,  to  confront  me  at  the  day  of  judgment,  seemed  natu- 
rally a  matter  of  grave  concern."1  The  same  credulity  and 
concreteness  might  be  shown  by  presenting  children's 
words  portraying  their  ideas  of  the  devil,  immortality,  heaven, 
hell,  angels,  etc. 

From  six  to  nine  the  imagination  is  very  vivid  and  prom- 
inent and  should  then  be  made  use  of;  this  is  also  a  good  time 
to  cultivate  the  emotions,  as  e.  g.,  a  love  for  parents,  God, 
and  truth.  All  good  actions  may  then  be  crystallized  into 
habits. 

From  nine  to  twelve,  sometimes  called  Prepubescence, 
considerable  takes  place  in  the  individual.  The  intellect 
develops  rapidly  and  there  is  an  enlargement  of  capacity, 
knowledge,  thinking,  and  planning.  It  is  at  this  age  that 
misdeeds  may  properly  be  called  sins.  The  ability  of  a  child 
is  then  usually  underestimated.  Memory  is  then  active, 
in  fact,  this  is  the  most  receptive  period.  The  child  ques- 
tions things;  the  age  of  uncritical  credulity  is  past,  and  a  lik- 
ing for  reality  appears,  in  contrast  to  the  former  imaginative 

1  J.  Fiske,  The  Idea  0}  God,  p.  1 16. 


AGE  273 

period.  It  is  at  this  period  that  exact  statements  are  often 
eschewed,  and  what  is  said  is  prefaced  by,  "I  think,"  "It 
is  my  opinion,"  "They  say,"  etc.  This  may  be  due  to  a 
morbid  conscientiousness,  the  person  being  afraid  that  he 
might  tell  a  lie.  Facts  and  the  relation  of  things  take  his 
attention.  He  demands  justice  and  has  a  great  respect  for 
law;  he  is  also  acquisitive,  and  rivalry  is  strong  at  this  age. 

I  have,  very  incompletely,  enumerated  the  chief  character- 
istics of  the  different  divisions  of  childhood,  and  now  wish 
to  make  a  few  general  deductions  concerning  childhood  in 
general.  Many  religious  tenets  are  taken  for  granted. 
There  is  no  question  about  the  being  of  God,  but  simply  an 
effort  to  conceive  of  Him.  Prayer  and  other  religious  duties 
are  carried  on  without  a  knowledge  of  their  full  significance, 
but  the  value  of  these  habits  to  the  future  religious  life  can- 
not be  overestimated.  Notwithstanding  the  anthropo- 
morphic, concrete,  materialistic,  and  credulous  attitude  of 
mind  exhibited  in  children,  it  is  profitable  to  teach  them 
religion,  and  especially  so  if  we  recognize  the  kind  which  is 
most  acceptable  to  them,  and  which  may  be  a  foundation 
upon  which  the  later  life  may  be  built.  Not  only  children 
but  adults  find  it  difficult  to  escape  anthropomorphism,  yet 
we  do  not  deny  the  latter  religion. 

A  religion  fitted  to  each  form  of  development  not  only 
assists  the  individual  to  pass  from  one  stage  of  growth  to  the 
next,  but  gives  a  basis  for  the  next  stage  to  grow  upon. 
Care  must  be  taken,  however,  not  to  make  statements  which 
will  afterward  have  to  be  denied,  even  if  they  do  seem  to  fit 
into  a  particular  stage  of  development,  or  if  they  have  moral 
objects  in  view.  This  will  inevitably  lead  to  doubt.  A 
boy  was  reproved  by  his  grandmother  for  neglecting  to  say 
his  prayers  the  night  before,  and  she  concluded  by  saying, 
"God  won't  take  care  of  you  if  you  don't."  To  which  the 
boy  replied,  "Well,  He  did."     Doubt  may  also  be  inspired 


274  AGE 

by  making  statements  about  God  which  are  contrary  to  the 
child's  growing  conceptions  of  justice  and  goodness. 

In  a  study  of  the  different  stages  of  religious  development 
of  the  individual,  one  finds  two  interesting  comparisons. 
The  first  is  that  in  general  the  development  of  the  child 
religion  corresponds  with  that  of  the  race.  We  have  the 
analogy  of  the  physical.  That  the  body  in  embryo  passes 
through  the  various  stages  of  development  through  which 
the  lower  forms  of  physical  life  evolved,  is  but  an  axiom  of 
embryology.  The  same  general  rule  seems  to  hold  good  for 
the  religious  development  of  childhood,  if  not  for  the  general 
childhood  mental  development.  The  second  comparison 
is  equally  interesting.  The  chronological  order  of  the  books 
of  our  Bible  corresponds  also  with  the  childhood  develop- 
ment. This  would  naturally  follow  from  the  former  compari- 
son. Notice,  if  you  will,  that  the  earlier  books  are  somewhat 
mythological,  then  come  the  historical,  then  the  imagina- 
tive literature  of  the  poets  and  prophets;  the  ethics  of  the 
New  Testament  are  next  in  order,  and  finally  the  doctrinal 
ideas  as  found  in  the  New  Testament  epistles.  This  com- 
parison, of  course,  takes  us  further  than  childhood,  and  is 
rather  an  epitome  of  the  whole  individual  religious  life.  In 
the  main,  though,  the  development  is  from  the  concrete, 
tangible,  and  visible,  to  the  abstract,  intangible,  and  invis- 
ible.1 

The  term  Adolescence  has  a  rather  indefinite  meaning, 

1  For  a  detailed  study  of  the  religion  of  childhood  consult  E.  Barnes, 
"Theological  Life  of  a  California  Child,"  Pedagogical  Seminary,  II; 
H.  W.  Brown,  "Thoughts  and  Reasonings  of  Children,"  Pedagogical 
Seminary,  II;  G.  S.  Hall,  "The  Contents  of  Children's  Minds,"  Peda- 
gogical Seminary,  I;  J.  Sully,  Studies  of  Childhood;  M.  W.  Shinn, 
"Some  Comments  on  Babies,"  Overland  Monthly,  2d  Series,  XXIII; 
J.  R.  Street,  "The  Religion  of  Childhood,"  Homiletic  Review,  LV; 
J.  B.  Pratt,  The  Psychology  oj  Religious  Belief,  pp.  200-212,  as  well  as 
an  increasingly  large  literature   devoted  to  Sunday-school   pedagogy. 


AGE 


275 


but  is  used  to  designate  a  period  of  the  life  of  every  individual 
generally  bounded  by  the  years  twelve  and  twenty-five. 
It  starts  with  the  beginning  of  puberty  and  ends  with  settled 
young  manhood  and  womanhood.  It  was  formerly  considered 
a  physical  phenomenon,  but  the  mental  characteristics  of 
adolescence  are  far  more  startling  and  equally  important 
to  the  individual  and  the  race.  The  body  and  mind  develop 
contemporaneously  and  reciprocally;  the  idea  held  by  many 
that  this  is  a  purely  physical  change  which  causes  a  corre- 
sponding mental  upheaval,  is  incorrect.  In  females,  ado- 
lescence begins  one  or  two  years  earlier  than  in  males  and 
ends  sooner.  In  general,  adolescence  may  be  bounded  in 
females  by  the  years  eleven  and  twenty-one,  and  in  males  by 
twelve  or  thirteen  and  twenty-five.  This  is  general  only, 
and  individuals  differ  greatly.  There  is  also  a  marked 
difference  in  races,  as  much  as  two  or  three  years  in  the  aver- 
age of  both  boys  and  girls  between  the  extremes. 

Adolescence  has  been  divided  into  three  periods,  first, 
11-15  in  females,  12-16  in  males;  second,  15-17  in  females, 
16-18  in  males;  third,  17-21  in  females,  18-24  in  males. 
These  three  stages  may  be  termed  early  or  ferment  stage, 
middle  or  crisis  stage,  and  later  or  reconstruction  stage. 
These  are  more  or  less  arbitrary  divisions.  Some  affirm 
that  physical  adolescence  begins  before  the  mental,  and  others 
that  the  opposite  is  true;  we  shall  probably  not  make  much 
mistake  in  thinking  of  them  as  contemporaneous. 

So  much  has  been  written  in  late  years  and  so  careful 
has  the  description  of  the  adolescent  period  been,  that  to 
give  even  a  brief  resume  of  the  mental  characteristics  of 
the  different  stages  would  consume  more  space  than  could  be 
allowed.  This  is  especially  true  since  the  literature  of 
adolescence  is  so  easy  of  access.  We  will  content  ourselves 
with  endeavoring  to  outline  the  religious  significance  of  this 
age. 


276  AGE 

The  adolescent  period  is  the  time  of  the  greatest  upheaval 
and  change  in  life;  in  every  respect  it  is  a  second  birth.  Ow- 
ing to  this  marked  change  in  every  department  of  life,  it  is 
the  natural  time  for  the  spiritual  second  birth.  Experience 
has  shown  that  what  we  affirm  theoretically  is  true  practi- 
cally. This  new  meaning  and  mystery  of  life  in  adolescence 
tend  to  bring  in  a  new  and  distinct  epoch  in  religious  experi- 
ence. There  is  a  real  departure  from  the  little,  dependent, 
irresponsible  animal  self,  into  the  larger,  independent  re- 
sponsible, outreaching,  and  upreaching  moral  life  of  man- 
hood and  womanhood. 

With  boys,  this  is  more  apt  to  be  associated  with  doubt; 
with  girls,  with  times  of  storm  and  stress.  With  boys  the 
crisis  is  more  liable  to  come  when  alone,  with  girls  in  a  church 
service;  but  however  it  appears,  come  it  will.  One  great 
service  which  Starbuck  has  rendered  to  us  is  in  showing  us 
the  close  parallel  between  the  conversion  of  young  people 
brought  up  among  evangelical  surroundings,  and  the  spon- 
taneous growth  into  a  larger  religious  experience  which  is  a 
normal  phase  of  adolescence  in  every  class  of  human  beings, 
Christian  or  pagan.  They  come  about  the  same  time  and 
with  similar  symptoms.  The  age  is  somewhere  between 
thirteen  and  seventeen,  differing  slightly  with  males  and  fe- 
males, the  females  developing  younger.1  Spontaneous  awak- 
enings come  entirely  independent  of  revival  or  special  ex- 
ternal pressure,  and  may  be  just  as  sudden  and  accompanied 
by  just  as  strange  phenomena  as  conversions.  The  con- 
clusion seems  inevitable  that  conversion  is  a  normal  adoles- 
cent phenomenon,  a  part  of  or  result  of  the  passage  from 
childhood  to  maturity— a  part  of  the  new  birth  of  the  self. 

1  Those  interested  in  a  statistical  inquiry  regarding  the  age  of  con- 
version may  consult  G.  A.  Coe,  The  Spiritual  Life,  p.  45;  E.  D.  Star- 
buck,  The  Psychology  of  Religion,  p.  $y,  G.  S.  Hall,  Adolescence,  II, 
pp.  288-291. 


AGE  277 

But  we  must  not  infer  that  every  one  is  to  experience  con- 
version, even  with  religious  influences  surrounding  him. 
Childhood  training  and  temperament  may  be  such  that  a 
crisis  is  avoided,  or  even  with  new  religious  impulses  a  de- 
cision for  righteousness  may  not  be  made.  Adolescence  is 
the  normal  time  for  conversion,  if  that  is  necessary;  but  with 
some  individuals  through  arrested  development  or  incorrect 
development  it  is  misplaced,  and  it  or  spontaneous  awaken- 
ing does  not  come,  regardless  of  the  occasion,  until  later  in 
life.  Starbuck1  gives  one  case  as  late  as  fifty-five.  On  the 
other  hand,  it  is  as  useless  as  it  is  foolish  to  try  to  prevent 
a  change  in  religious  ideas  from  those  of  childhood,  but  the 
adolescent  may  be  very  suggestible  regarding  the  form 
which  the  change  will  take  and  the  manner  in  which  it 
will  come. 

Religion  of  all  forms  has  taken  advantage  of  adolescence, 
and  by  judicious  management  has  used  it  for  the  decisive 
time  for  the  individual.2  This  is  true  of  all  branches  of 
Christianity  also,  for  while  evangelistic  churches  have 
laid  emphasis  on  adolescence  as  the  age  of  conversion, 
the  ritualistic  churches  have  emphasized  this  time  for 
confirmation  and  first  communion.  Coe  calls  attention  to 
the  fact  that  there  is  a  second  time  of  awakening  fol- 
lowing conversion,  called  by  the  individuals  by  some  such 
name  as  sanctification  or  perfect  consecration,  which  may 
make  itself  felt  at  thirteen,  more  strongly  at  seventeen,  and 
reaches  a  maximum  at  twenty,  after  which  it  rapidly  de- 
clines.3 

Religious  awakenings  of  adolescence   may  come  in   all 

1  E.  D.  Starbuck,  The  Psychology  0}  Religion,  p.  203. 

*See  A.  H.  Daniels,  "The  New  Life,"  American  Journal  of  Psy- 
chology, VI,  pp.  61,  et.  seq. 

3  G.  A.  Coe,  The  Spiritual  Life,  p.  46;  compare  E.  D.  Starbuck, 
The  Psychology  of  Religion,  pp.  205  ff. 


278  AGE 

sorts  of  ways.  Far  from  there  being  any  rule,  we  had  better 
say  that  no  two  persons'  experiences  are  the  same.  Very 
frequently  they  are  undoubtedly  the  result  of  subconscious 
forces.  Notice  the  following:  "At  fourteen  I  became  a 
Christian.  I  can  give  no  cause  of  the  change.  I  then  seemed 
to  realize  for  the  first  time  all  the  truths  that  had  been  pre- 
sented before."  "One  young  lady  relates  that,  at  the  age 
of  fourteen  while  she  was  walking  in  a  neighbour's  garden, 
suddenly  the  thought  came  to  her  that  she  had  passed  from 
death  unto  life.  There  were  no  especial  emotional  manifesta- 
tions, yet  this  event  she  has  always  looked  upon  as  a  decisive 
one."  It  may  be  that  the  ordinary  church  services  assume 
new  meaning  and  importance,  or  that  a  word  in  a  sermon  or 
an  experience  of  years  before  suddenly  becomes  the  key-note 
of  a  vital  and  vivid  experience. 

At  other  times  (seasons  of  storm  and  stress  are  a  natural 
part  of  adolescence)  conversion  is  preceded  by  a  sense  of  sin 
similar  to  that  already  described  in  the  preceding  chapter, 
including  helplessness,  depression,  anxieties,  fears,  and 
doubts,  sometimes  accompanied  by  bodily  affections.  Even 
without  conversion  these  phenomena  may  be  present;  the 
whole  process  may  be  experienced  and  only  the  conversion 
factor  be  lacking.  In  connection  with  seasons  of  stress  the 
characteristic  mental  differences  of  sex  will  probably  come 
to  the  surface. 

From  twelve  to  fifteen,  during  early  adolescence,  is  the 
most  critical  age,  the  critical  spirit  culminating  at  about 
fourteen.  This  is  followed  by  diminishing  critical  activity, 
especially  on  religious  questions.  The  criticism  is  based 
on  a  very  high  standard;  nothing  but  absolute  truth  will 
satisfy  the  adolescent.  There  can  be  no  compromise,  and 
no  argument  can  effect  a  compromise.  Nothing  less  than 
absolutely  right  conduct  can  be  right  at  all;  what  others  call 
prudence,  he  calls  disloyalty  to  principle.     In  his  frequent 


AGE 


279 


arguments  he  gives  no  quarter,  and  every  thing  must  be 
four-square,  or  condemnation  is  inevitable.  He  has  lofty 
ideals  and  high  ambitions,  and  he  deals  in  superlatives  only. 
After  two  or  three  years,  about  the  period  of  middle  adoles- 
cence, the  critical  spirit  is  quiescent;  about  the  beginning  of 
later  adolescence  it  again  appears,  but  not  in  so  intense  a 
form. 

Connected  with  this  critical  attitude,  contemporaneous 
with  it,  and  as  a  result  of  it,  comes  doubt.  Doubt  is  constitu- 
tional, must  be  looked  for  and  dealt  with,  not  as  a  crime 
but  more  as  a  disease.  Shepherding  care  is  needed  at  no 
other  time  so  much  as  during  doubting  seasons.  Patience 
and  sympathetic  explanation  must  be  given.  This  doubt 
is  born  of  an  attempt  at  rational  explanation;  when  a  cor- 
rect adjustment  of  relations  is  made,  doubt  vanishes.  With 
the  greatest  care  it  is  probable  that  it  cannot  be  entirely 
eliminated,  as  a  certain  amount  during  adolescence  seems 
to  be  normal.  Over  two-thirds  of  Starbuck's  respondents 
experienced  a  season  of  doubt,  and  Hall  reports  from  the 
examination  of  over  seven  hundred  cases  of  young  men  re- 
ligiously reared  in  Protestant  colleges,  that  there  were  very 
few  who  had  not  wrestled  with  serious  doubts,  some  so 
Serious  indeed  as  to  drive  the  doubters  to  suicide. 

While  doubt  is  a  part  of  adolescent  phenomena,  yet  it  is  oc- 
casioned by  a  rebellion  against  authority — an  independent 
attitude  toward  all  things;  by  a  re-examination  of  the  bases 
of  beliefs;  and  by  the  height  of  critical  standards.  The 
doubts  may  continue  to  the  end  of  adolescence,  but  should 
be  dissipated  before  this  time.  At  any  rate,  they  seldom  last 
beyond  thirty.  Some  accept  a  basis  of  authority,  being 
weary  of  the  struggle,  others  find  a  refuge  in  argument  or 
reasoning,  while  still  others  lose  their  doubts  almost  imper- 
ceptibly by  the  quiet,  unobtrusive  development  of  some 
experience  or  belief. 


28o  AGE 

There  is  some  difference  of  opinion  as  to  the  need  of  ex- 
periencing this  doubting,  stormy  period.  That  it  is  present 
with  us  now  all  agree,  but  Coe,  for  instance,  opines  that 
while  the  ground  is  ripe  for  it  in  the  peculiar  nervous  con- 
ditions of  adolescence,  the  seeds  which  produce  it  are  the 
modern  conditions  of  life,  which  put  such  a  burden  on  the  ado- 
lescent, and  the  religious  training  of  the  home  and  the  church. 
Whatever  the  cause,  we  know  that  it  complicates  the  relig- 
ious conditions,  for  the  adolescent  must  make  his  own 
religion;  dogmatic  statements,  even  of  the  least  objectionable 
kind,  are  subjected  to  a  keen  criticism,  and  all  the  more  so  be- 
cause of  the  dogmatism.  The  best  one  can  do  is  to  skilfully 
suggest,  and  the  adolescent  rejects  or  admits  at  his  pleasure. 
He  is  liable  to  want  more  information  than  he  can  compre- 
hend, and  is,  therefore,  satisfied  with  much  less  than  he 
asked  for. 

The  adolescent's  criticism  never  ends  with  doctrines  and 
companions,  but  his  strict  sense  of  justice  causes  him  to  be 
as  severe  on  himself  as  on  any  one,  yes,  at  times,  more  severe. 
A  most  exacting  and  unreasonable  conscientiousness  is 
developed,  and  is  merciless  in  its  demands.1  Afraid  of 
telling  a  lie  he  safeguards  every  sentence,  every  act  is  meas- 
ured by  some  rule  which  he  applies  in  the  most  absurd  fashion ; 
foolish  vows  are  made  and  extravagant  actions  are  performed 
to  conform  to  the  vows.  Self-sacrifice  in  an  unostentatious 
way  may  rival  that  of  the  Middle  Ages.  At  times  the  con- 
science becomes  hyperaesthetic  and  morbid,  although  the 
dividing  line  between  the  normal  and  abnormal  is  not  easy 
to  trace  in  adolescence.  Here,  a  girl  would  not  take  a  pin 
without  asking;  or  another  must  say  "Thank  you"  for 
every  flower  of  a  large  bunch  which  was  placed  in  her 
hand  one   by  one;   or   a   young  man  must  pull  up  every 

1  G.  A.  Coe,  The  Spiritual  Life,  pp.  67-103,  deals  very  intelligently 
with  adolescent  difficulties. 


AGE  281 

weed,  or  get  off  the  binder  and  procure  every  missed  stock 
of  grain. 

The  doubt  may  appear  in  regard  to  the  individual's  life 
work,  as  e.  g.,  between  being  a  missionary  and  a  business 
man,  both,  however,  with  the  idea  of  personal  consecration 
uppermost;  or  in  regard  to  one's  personal  religious  status. 
In  this  latter  case,  fear  of  having  committed  the  unpardonable 
sin  is  uppermost,  as  it  is  in  most  morbid  religious  fears,  but 
innocent  and  insignificant  things  are  magnified  into  heinous 
sins,  and  doubts  about  being  a  Christian  are  experienced. 
The  connection  between  sex  and  Christianity  in  adolescence 
will  be  reserved  for  discussion  in  a  future  chapter,  but  a 
word  regarding  ill  temper  may  be  fitting.  Most  irritability 
of  temper  is  the  result  of  nerve  fatigue,  whether  in  child  or 
adult.  Instead  of  allowing  this  to  be  an  additional  source 
of  self-condemnation,  the  true  state  of  affairs  should  be  ex- 
plained and  means  taken  to  alleviate  it.  Sympathetic 
instruction  should  take  the  place  of  scolding. 

For  Christianity  adolescence  is  a  critical  and  important 
period;  in  fact,  Christianity  has  been  characterized  as  an 
adolescent  religion.  "What  we  need  is  a  religion  which  will 
keep  us  young,  which  will  keep  us  active  and  free  from  senti- 
mentality and  morbidity  in  middle  life,  and  which  will  keep 
us  interested  in  life  and  its  ethical  problems  into  old  age. 
And  it  seems  to  be  the  peculiar  mission  of  the  religion  of 
Jesus  to  keep  people  adolescents  in  spirit  all  their  life.  In 
this,  to  my  mind,  lies  the  superiority  of  the  religion  of  Jesus 
from  a  psychological  point  of  view."1 

Although  there  is  a  sharp  break  in  some  respects  from  the 
childhood  experiences,  yet  the  adolescent  reconstruction 
depends  on  the  childhood  training.  As  in  childhood,  so  the 
adolescent  should  be  induced  to  give  free  scope  to  his  re- 

1  J.  du  Buy,  "Stages  of  Religious  Development,"  American  Journal 
of  Religious  Psychology  and  Education,  I,  p.  23. 


282  AGE 

ligious  instincts,  and  develop  along  natural  lines.  While 
sympathy,  suggestion,  and  training  are  undoubtedly  helpful, 
each  individual  is  a  distinct  problem,  and  must  be  allowed 
to  take  original  lines  of  growth.1 

If  childhood  and  adolescence  have  been  passed  satis- 
factorily from  a  religious  point  of  view,  adult  religion  comes 
to  be  a  period  of  reconstruction  and  development  along  the 
lines  of  those  accepted  in  later  adolescence.  The  early 
lessons  of  childhood  are  not  without  influence  all  through 
life,  and  with  many  people  they  are  very  important.  Some 
believe,  because  they  have  always  believed,  others  believe 
because  it  is  too  difficult  for  them  to  think  for  themselves, 
and  still  others  take  religious  doctrines  for  granted  because 
their  friends  do.  This  credulity  of  adult  life  is  different 
from  that  of  childhood  because  the  former  is  tinged  with 
rationality.  A  smaller  class  take  the  authority  of  experts 
as  a  basis  for  their  beliefs,  but  still  sift  it  through  reason, 
and  a  few  take  the  trouble  to  find  a  basis  for  their  belief  by 
argument  and  rational  thinking.  Still  others  espouse  doc- 
trines which  are  comfortable  and  pleasant,  those  which  they 
''will  to  believe,"  and  a  larger  number  have  mystical  ex- 
periences of  a  more  or  less  vivid  character  which  establish 
belief  in  a  far  larger  number  of  doctrines  than  are  touched 
by  the  experience.  For  example,  a  person  may  have  a  feel- 
ing or  sense  of  the  presence  of  God;  this  does  not  only  con- 
firm his  belief  in  the  being  of  God,  but  confirms  his  belief 
in  all  other  orthodox  doctrines.  The  adult  belief  may  be 
progressive,  developing  from  a  primitive  credulity  to  inde- 
pendent thought.     Post  adolescent  conversions  are  not  so 

1  For  further  information  on  the  adolescent  problem,  especially  as 
it  concerns  religion,  see  G.  S.  Hall,  Adolescence,  I  and  II;  G.  A.  Coe, 
The  Spiritual  Life,  pp.  29-103;  E.  D.  Starbuck,  The  Psychology  of 
Religion;  J.  B.  Pratt,  The  Psychology  of  Religious  Belief,  pp.  212-230, 
and  innumerable  works  on  Sunday  School  Pedagogy. 


AGE  283 

harmful  as  the  childhood  ones,  and  usually  are  the  only 
source  of  hope.  On  the  other  hand,  they  are  more  difficult 
to  initiate,  more  rarely  effective,  and  more  fraught  with 
hindrances  and  obstacles. 


CHAPTER  XX 

SEX 

"A  woman  impudent  and  mannish  grown 
Is  not  more  loathed  than  an  effeminate  man." — Shakespeare. 

It  requires  neither  trained  powers  of  observation  nor  pro- 
found psychological  perspicacity  to  discover  a  difference 
between  man  and  woman.  We  recognize  a  feminine  type 
(to  which  no  woman  completely  corresponds),  and  a  mascu- 
line type  (to  which  no  man  completely  corresponds);  i.  e., 
we  expect  certain  habits  of  mind,  certain  reactions,  and  cer- 
tain modes  of  thought  in  every  woman  for  no  other  reason 
than  simply  that  she  is  a  woman;  the  same  is  true  concern- 
ing men.  These  are  probably  modified  by  general  education 
and  individual  training,  but  the  underlying  tendencies  remain 
more  or  less  constant.  To  say  that  there  is  a  greater  di- 
vergence between  extremes  in  women  on  the  one  hand,  and 
extremes  in  men  on  the  other,  and  between  different  races, 
than  between  the  two  sexes,  does  not  in  the  least  mitigate 
against  the  main  contention.  Neither  are  we  to  be  led 
astray  by  a  dispute  concerning  the  comparative  superiority. 
We  cannot  say  that  one  is  higher  than  the  other,  for  we  have 
no  standard  by  which  to  gauge  them;  we  can  only  say  that 
each  sex  is  superior  in  its  own  way,  and  that  the  two  are 
complementary. 

It  is  most  natural  to  suppose  that,  if  there  is  a  psychological 
difference  between  the  sexes,  it  would  manifest  itself  in  re- 
ligious reactions,  and  such  we  find  to  be  the  case.  We  can 
clearly  differentiate  two  types  of  Christianity,  the  dividing 

284 


SEX  285 

line  being  that  of  the  sexes.  In  a  recent  interesting  but  far 
from  convincing  volume,1  the  thesis  is  stated  and  defended 
that  the  ultimate  difference  between  the  sexes  is  that  women 
have  no  souls,  the  soul  being  a  masculine  characteristic. 
If  we  accept  this  it  would  be  foolish  to  speak  of  feminine 
religion  or  morality,  and  this,  in  fact,  that  author  holds. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  is  not  uncommon  to  hear  persons 
make  the  statement  that  women  are  far  more  religious  than 
men,  even  to  the  extent  of  giving  to  women  a  monopoly  of 
religion.  The  facts  seem  to  be  at  variance  with  both  theories, 
and  we  will  proceed  with  the  assumption  that  both  sexes  are 
religious  and  both  equally  so.  I  trust  that  the  data  pre- 
sented may  be  convincing  on  both  points. 

The  task  which  first  lies  before  us  is  to  present  the  psy- 
chological peculiarities  of  the  two  sexes,  which  seem  most 
important  to  us  from  the  standpoint  of  religion.  It  may  be 
well  to  note  in  the  beginning  that  primitive  men  and  women 
presented  fewer  divergencies,  both  physically  and  psycho- 
logically, than  later,  and  also  that  at  the  present  time  while 
the  physical  differences  are  becoming  modified  by  outdoor 
exercise  and  a  more  sensible  idea  of  life  on  the  part  of  women, 
the  greatest  change  seems  to  be  in  a  growing  psychological 
similarity.  The  extremes  meet,  and  in  the  times  between 
we  find  the  greatest  dissimilarity.  The  characteristics  have 
been  summed  up  as  follows: 

"Man  is  fitted  for  feats  of  strength  and  bursts  of  energy; 
woman  has  more  stability  and  endurance.  While  woman 
remains  nearer  to  the  infantile  type,  man  approaches  more 
to  the  senile.  The  extreme  variational  tendency  of  man 
expresses  itself  in  a  larger  percentage  of  genius,  insanity, 
and  idiocy;  woman  remains  more  nearly  normal."2 

"If  one  may  speak  of  types  of  mind  and  not  of  individuals, 

1  O.  Weininger,  Sex  and  Character. 
2W.  I.  Thomas,  Sex  and  Society,  p.  51. 


286  SEX 

it  is  within  the  truth  to  say  that  woman  is  a  creature  of  intu- 
ition, of  mystical  emotion,  rather  than  of  intellect  and  rational 
inhibition."1 

"That  men  should  have  greater  cerebral  variability  and, 
therefore,  more  originality,  while  women  have  greater  sta- 
bility and,  therefore,  more  'common  sense,'  are  facts  both 
consistent  with  the  general  theory  of  sex  and  verifiable  in 
common  experience.  The  woman,  conserving  the  effects 
of  past  variations,  has  what  may  be  called  the  greater  in- 
tegrating intelligence;  the  man,  introducing  new  variations, 
is  stronger  in  differentiation.  The  feminine  passivity  is 
expressed  in  greater  patience,  more  open-mindedness,  greater 
appreciation  of  subtle  details,  and  consequently  what  we 
call  more  rapid  intuition.  The  masculine  activity  leads  to 
a  greater  power  of  maximum  effort,  of  scientific  insight,  or 
cerebral  experiment  with  impressions,  and  is  associated 
with  an  unobservant  and  impatient  disregard  of  minute  de- 
tails, but  with  a  stronger  grasp  of  generalities.  Man  thinks 
more,  woman  feels  more.  He  discovers  more,  but  remembers 
less;  she  is  more  receptive,  and  less  forgetful."  2 

To  approach  the  subject  more  in  detail,  we  find  that  un- 
doubtedly women  are  intellectually  inferior  to  men.  The 
foremost  places  in  every  department  of  science,  literature, 
and  art  have  been  occupied  by  men,  and  the  number  of 
women  who  have  shown  in  any  form  the  very  highest  order 
of  genius  is  infinitesimally  small.  Even  in  music  and  paint- 
ing, for  which  they  seem  especially  adapted,  they  have  failed 
to  obtain  the  first  positions.  "Women  are  intellectually 
more  desultory  and  volatile  than  men,  they  are  more  occupied 
with  particular  instances  than  with  general  principles;  they 
judge  rather  by  intuitive  perceptions  than  by  deliberative 
reasoning  or  past  experience.     They  are,  however,  usually 

1  F.  M.  Davenport,  Primitive  Traits  in  Religious  Revivals,  p.  293. 
3  Geddes  and  Thompson,  The  Evolution  oj  Sex.,  p.  271. 


SEX  287 

superior  to  men  in  nimbleness  and  rapidity  of  thought, 
and  in  the  gift  of  tact  or  the  power  of  seizing  speedily  and 
faithfully  the  finer  inflexions  of  feeling,  and  they  have, 
therefore,  often  obtained  very  great  eminence  in  conver- 
sation, as  letter- writers,  as  actresses,  and  as  novelists."1 
Women,  being  inferior  in  judgment,  accept  opinions  of 
others  more  readily,  men  wish  to  reason  out  the  matter;  as 
a  check  to  this,  women  are  naturally  very  conservative, 
sometimes  to  the  point  of  obstinacy.  They  have  greater 
acquisitiveness,  but  less  power  of  creative  thought  than  men. 

In  the  volitional  element  men  also  appear  superior.  While 
woman  excels  in  the  fortitude  with  which  she  bears  burdens, 
especially  of  long  duration,  she  is  less  aggressive  and  inde- 
pendent, less  firm,  decisive,  and  determined.  He  wants  to 
fight,  she  wins  by  tact  and  love.  He  has  tenacity  of  purpose 
to  overcome  obstacles  and  embark  on  new  enterprises,  she, 
being  more  timid,  confines  her  efforts  to  well-known  work, 
which,  however,  she  develops  more  persistently.  The  active 
and  the  heroic  attract  him ;  in  the  passive  and  the  prosaic  she 
finds  her  work. 

In  the  realm  of  emotions  it  is  the  man  who  is  inferior. 
This  is  true,  even  allowing  a  considerable  discount  for  emo- 
tional excesses.  To  women  and  the  influences  which  they 
exert  must  be  attributed  the  tender  strains  of  life.  Women 
are  affectionate,  sympathetic,  compassionate.  Altruism, 
long-suffering,  and  self-denial  follow  in  the  train.  Although 
they  are  patient  and  long-suffering  under  pain,  disappoint- 
ment, and  adversity,  they  are,  as  a  rule,  more  liable  than 
men  to  be  fickle  and  to  show  indecision  of  character.  In 
men  the  emotions  are  more  under  control.  The  aesthetic 
emotions  are  more  often  present  in  women,  and  "feminine 
'taste'  is  proverbially  good  in  regard  to  the  smaller  matters 
of  every-day  life,  although  it  becomes,  as  a  rule,  untrust- 

1  W.  E.  H.  Lecky,  History  of  European  Morals,  II,  p.  358. 


288  SEX 

worthy  in  proportion  to  the  necessity  for  intellectual  judg- 
ment."1 

Coupled  with  this  emotional  element  is  a  great  tendency 
to  suggestibility,  or,  as  Ellis  calls  it,  "affectability."  Women 
respond  to  all  forms  of  stimuli  more  readily  than  do  men, 
and  in  the  religious  epidemics  we  noticed  the  large  pro- 
portion of  women  involved.  Even  in  spite  of  herself,  woman 
responds  to  influences  from  without,  and  thereby  more  easily 
than  man  adapts  herself  to  new  conditions.  This  is  the 
basis  of  the  tact  which  is  so  characteristic  of  woman.  Ex- 
ample and  influence  are  more  potent  with  her.  This  is 
what  is  meant  by  saying  that  crowds  are  always  feminine. 
Latin  crowds  especially  so.2  The  crowd  is  very  emotional 
and  particularly  suggestible,  as  we  have  already  seen  in 
dealing  with  the  subject  of  contagious  phenomena. 

Now  what  do  these  things  mean  to  religion,  what  effect 
do  they  have  on  masculine  and  feminine  Christianity? 
Very  much  as  we  shall  see.  Starbuck  in  his  investigations 
found  the  sexual  differences  quite  striking.3  The  age  of 
conversion  varies  with  the  sex,  the  feminine  being  nearly 
two  years  earlier.  The  average  duration  of  conviction  was 
twenty-four  weeks  among  females  and  sixty-nine  weeks 
among  males;  there  were  six  times  as  many  females  as  males 
converted  in  regular  church  services,  and  twice  as  many 
males  as  females  converted  at  home;  both  of  these  facts  show 
the  tendency  of  males  to  think  things  out.  As  a  further 
indication  of  the  prominence  of  intellectual  factors  in  males 
he  found  fear,  brooding,  and  morbid  sensitiveness  prominent 
among  women  at  times  of  storm  and  stress,  while  the  prom- 
inent elements  among  men  were  anxiety  over  doubt,  and 

1 G.  J.  Romanes,  Mental  Differences  between  Men  and  Women, 
Nineteenth  Century,  XXI,  p.  658. 

2  G.  Le  Bon,  The  Crowd,  p.  44. 

3  E.  D.  Starbuck,  The  Psychology  of  Religion. 


SEX  289 

friction  with  surroundings.  Doubt  came  to  men  more  often 
on  account  of  educational  influences,  and  to  women  as  a 
natural  growth.  "Adolescence  is  for  women  primarily  a 
period  of  storm  and  stress,  while  for  men  it  is  in  the  highest 
sense  a  period  of  doubt."  "The  volitional  element  seems 
to  be  greater  among  males,  while  females  are  more  liable 
to  remain  in  helplessness  and  uncertainty.  The  difference 
seems  to  indicate  that  feeling  plays  a  larger  part  in  the  re- 
ligious life  of  females,  while  males  are  controlled  more  by 
intellection  and  volition." 

Intense  emotions  are  more  prevalent  with  males;  women 
are  more  imaginative,  men  want  something  tangible.  There 
are  more  unconscious  elements  present  in  females  in  con- 
version, and  here  males  respond  best  to  subjective  forces,  and 
females  to  objective  influences,  such  as  imitation  and  social 
pressure.  This  means,  of  course,  that  women  are  more 
suggestible  or  "affectable."  We  see  that  these  data,  obtained 
from  investigations  in  religion,  and  especially  with  con- 
version, correspond  very  closely  with  the  general  description 
presented  above. 

Coe,  in  similar  investigations,  found  religious  experiences 
coinciding  with  those  of  Starbuck.  He  says1  that  we  might 
expect  that  women  "brought  up  under  continuous  religious 
incitement  and  suggestion  would  exhibit  greater  continuity 
of  religious  feeling  and  less  tendency  to  pass  through  re- 
ligious crises.  .  .  .  With  men,  religion  tends  more  to  focus 
itself  into  intense  crises.  Women  yield  sooner  and  show 
more  placid  progress,  while  men  pass  through  more  definite 
periods  of  awakening."  Religion  with  women  is  "something 
all  pervasive  and  easily  taken  for  granted."  "  Men  are  more 
likely  ...  to  resist  certain  religious  tendencies  up  to  the 
point  of  explosion."  Among  those  who  sought  striking 
transformations,  more  women  than  men  succeeded  in  obtain- 

1  G.  A.  Coe,  The  Spiritual  Life,  pp.  237  ft. 


290 


SEX 


frig  them.  The  women  report  satisfactory  feelings  among 
conversion  experiences,  and  the  men  forgiveness  and  matters 
dealing  with  right  and  wrong.  "With  women,  religion  is  more 
like  the  intuitive  tact  that  helps  them  so  much  in  all  the  re- 
lations of  life;  with  men,  it  requires  the  clumsier  instruments 
of  deliberation." 

Women  are  superior  morally;  men  commit  far  more  crimes. 
Women  being  more  self-sacrificing,  lead  in  both  impulsive 
and  deliberative  virtue.  Women  are  more  tender,  com- 
passionate and  chaste.  They  are  less  liable  to  intemperance 
and  brutality,  but  more  prone  to  the  petty  forms  of  vanity, 
jealousy,  spitefulness,  and  ambition,  and  they  are  inferior  to 
men  in  active  courage.  In  the  ethics  of  the  intellect  women 
are  below  men.  They  do  not  love  truth  as  such,  but  what 
they  call  "the  truth,"  and  hate  any  who  differ  with  them. 
There  is  little  impartiality  or  doubt  in  women.  They  are 
generous  in  acts,  but  not  in  opinions  nor  judgments.  Men 
are  just,  women  merciful;  men  excel  in  energy,  self-reliance,, 
perseverance,  and  magnanimity;  women  in  humility,  gentle- 
ness, modesty,  and  endurance.  Realizing  imagination  caus- 
ing pity  and  love,  and  dwelling  on  the  unseen,  are  better  in 
women;  they  also  have  more  vivid  religious  realizations. 
The  sympathies  of  women  are  more  intense  but  less  wide; 
woman's  imagination  individualizes  more,  her  affections 
are  for  leaders  rather  than  for  causes.  In  benevolence, 
women  excel  in  charity,  which  alleviates  individual  suffering, 
rather  than  in  philanthropy,  which  deals  with  large  masses 
and  prevents  instead  of  allays  calamity.1 

A  passage  in  a  letter  by  Rev.  John  H.  Noyes,  the  founder 
and  leader  of  the  Oneida  Creek  Colony,  reveals  his  idea  of 
the  difference  between  sects  which  have  the  sexual  emotions 
prominent  in  their  scheme,  according  to  the  masculine  or 
feminine  leadership. 

1  W.  E.  H.  Lecky,  History  oj  European  Morals,  II,  pp.  359  ft. 


SEX  291 

"One  dominant  peculiarity  of  the  Shakers,  as  also  of  the 
Bundling  Perfectionists,  which  determined  their  style  of 
socialism,  was,  in  my  opinion,  the  Leadership  of  Women. 
Man  of  himself  would  never  have  invented  Shakerism,  and 
it  would  have  been  very  difficult  to  have  made  him  a 
medium  of  inspiration  for  the  development  of  such  a  system. 
It  is  not  in  his  line.  But  it  is  exactly  adapted  to  the  pro- 
clivities of  woman  in  a  state  of  independence  or  ascendency 
over  man.  Love  between  the  sexes  has  two  stages:  the 
courting  stage  and  the  wedded  stage.  Women  are  fond  of 
the  first  stage.  Men  are  fond  of  the  second.  Women  like 
to  talk  about  love;  but  men  want  the  love  itself.  Among 
the  Perfectionists  the  women  led  the  way  in  the  bundling 
with  purposes  as  chaste  as  those  of  the  Shakers.  For  a  time 
they  had  their  way;  but  in  time  the  men  had  their  way."1 

If  there  exist  this  difference  between  masculine  and  feminine 
reactions  to  religion,  it  is  natural  for  us  to  ask  why  this  should 
be.  Some  late  writers  consider  that  the  education  and  en- 
vironment of  sex  explain  all. 

"The  point  to  be  emphasized  as  the  outcome  of  this  study 
is  that,  according  to  our  present  light,  the  psychological 
differences  of  sex  seem  to  be  largely  due,  not  to  difference 
in  average  capacity,  nor  to  difference  in  type  of  mental 
activity,  but  to  differences  in  the  social  influences  brought 
to  bear  on  the  developing  individual  from  early  infancy  to 
adult  years.  The  question  of  the  future  development 
of  the  intellectual  life  of  women  is  one  of  social  necessities 
and  ideals  rather  than  the  inborn  psychological  character- 
istics of  sex." 2  Miss  Thompson  is  not  alone,  but  is  followed 
by  others  with  slightly  different  views. 

1  W.  H.  Dixon,  Spiritual  Wives,  II,  p.  180  /. 

2  H.  B.  Thompson,  Psychological  Norms  in  Men  and  Women,  p.  182; 
see  also  E.  Densmore,  Sex  Equality ;  and  T.  C.  Shaw,  "The  Special 
Psychology  of  Women,"  The  Lancet,  May  2,  1908,  who  strongly  advo- 
cate this  position. 


292  SEX 

"Even  the  most  serious  women  of  the  present  day  stand, 
in  any  work  they  undertake,  in  precisely  the  same  relation 
to  men  that  the  amateur  stands  to  the  professional  in  games." 
"Scientific  pursuits  and  the  allied  intellectual  occupations 
are  a  game  which  women  have  entered  late,  and  the  lack 
of  practice  is  frequently  mistaken  for  lack  of  natural  ability." 
"At  present  we  seem  justified  in  inferring  that  the  differences 
in  mental  expression  between  the  higher  and  lower  races 
and  between  men  and  women  are  no  greater  than  they 
should  be  in  view  of  the  existing  differences  in  opportunity. 
Indeed,  when  we  take  into  consideration  the  superior  cunning 
as  well  as  the  superior  endurance  of  women,  we  may  even 
raise  the  question  whether  their  capacity  for  intellectual 
work  is  not  under  equal  conditions  greater  than  in  men. 
Cunning  is  the  analogue  of  constructive  thought.  .  .  .  En- 
durance is  also  a  factor  of  prime  importance  in  intellectual 
performance,  for  here  as  in  business  life  '  it  is  doggedness  as 
does  it.' " l 

This  view  apparently  over-emphasizes  an  element  which 
for  a  time  was  overlooked.  It  seems  hardly  possible  that  edu- 
cation and  development  can  explain  all  the  differences. 
Some  who  have  recognized  both  factors  have  seemed  to 
come  nearer  to  the  truth,  while  those  who  recognize  simply 
the  organic  cause  err  in  the  other  extreme.  Spencer  states 
it  in  this  way:  "  Just  as  certainly  as  they  (women)  have  physi- 
cal differences  which  are  related  to  the  respective  parts  they 
play  in  the  maintenance  of  the  race,  so  certainly  have  they 
psychical  differences  similarly  related  to  their  respective 
shares  in  the  rearing  and  protection  of  offspring."  The 
double  cause  is  noted  in  the  following.  "A  distinction 
must  be  made  between  the  incidental  qualities  of  her  nature 
due  to  her  environment,  .  .  .  and  those  more  fundamental 
qualities  due  in  history  to  her  wife's  relationship  and  mother's 

1  W.  I.  Thomas,  Sex  and  Society,  pp.  306,  307,  312,  and  313. 


SEX 


293 


heart.  .  .  .  The  physical  differences  between  the  sexes  com- 
prise many  secondary  characteristics  which  are  tokens  of 
varying  mental  life."1  We  recognize  the  same  position  in 
the  following:  "Of  all  the  pricks  against  which  it  is  hard  to 
kick,  the  hardest  are  those  which  are  presented  by  Nature 
in  the  form  of  facts.  Therefore,  we  may  begin  by  wholly 
disregarding  those  short-sighted  enthusiasts  who  seek  to 
overcome  the  natural  and  fundamental  distinctions  of  sex. 
No  amount  of  female  education  can  ever  do  this,  nor  is  it 
desirable  that  it  should."2 

As  an  indication  of  the  change  which  has  come  in  the  men- 
tality of  woman  lately,  especially  through  her  new  position  in 
society,  notice  this :  "  She  will  never  be  man.  Woman  she  will 
always  be,  and  love  will  be  her  sceptre  and  home  will  be 
her  throne.  But  the  time  will  come  when  she  will  be  less 
impulsively  emotional,  less  highly  suggestible,  than  she  is 
now."  3 

"The  affectability  of  women  exposes  them,  as  I  have  had 
occasion  to  point  out,  to  very  diabolical  manifestations. 
It  is  also  the  source  of  very  much  of  what  is  most  angelic 
in  women — their  impulses  of  tenderness,  their  compassion, 
their  moods  of  divine  childhood.  Poets  have  racked  their 
brains  to  express  and  to  account  for  this  mixture  of  heaven 
and  hell.  We  see  that  the  key  is  really  a  very  simple  one: 
both  the  heaven  and  hell  of  women  are  but  aspects  of  the 
same  physiological  affectability.  Seeing  this,  we  may  see, 
too,  that  those  worthy  persons  who  are  anxious  to  cut  off 
the  devil's  tail  might  find,  if  they  succeeded,  that  they  had 
also  shorn  the  angel  of  her  wings.     The  emotionality  of 

1  C.  D.  Case,  The  Masculine  in  Religion,  p.  33  j.  This  little  book 
will  be  found  very  valuable  in  a  study  of  the  subject  of  the  relation  of 
the  sexes  in  religion. 

2  G.  J.  Romanes,  Mental  Differences  between  Men  and  Women, 
Nineteenth  Century,  XXI,  p.  667. 

3  F.  M.  Davenport,  Primitive  Traits  in  Religious  Revivals,  p.  293. 


294  SEX 

woman  within  certain  limits  must  decrease;  there  are  those 
who  will  find  consolation  in  the  gradual  character  of  that 
decrease."  ! 

While  there  has  been  undoubtedly  a  change  in  the  minds 
of  women  during  the  last  half-century,  and  while  we  may 
expect  a  further  change  by  which  the  sexes  will  draw  closer 
together,  we  still  find  fundamental  differences  between 
them  which  similar  education  and  environment  can  never 
eliminate.  This  is  well.  The  sexes  are  not  antagonistic, 
but  complementary;  and  the  culmination  which  some  ap- 
parently hope  for,  the  masculine  conquest  of  the  feminine, 
would  be  a  loss  which  all  should  deplore.  More  compassion 
in  man  and  more  control  in  woman  would  be  a  condition 
to  be  desired,  but  this  will  never  make  a  woman  out  of  a 
man,  nor  a  man  out  of  a  woman.  The  sexual  differences 
among  all  mammals  are  not  only  physical  but  mental  as 
well,  and  this  state  exists  apart  from  arbitrary  schemes 
of  education;  it  is  only  to  be  expected,  therefore,  that  a  nat- 
ural difference  should  exist  among  the  sexes  in  the  human 
species. 

It  has  been  remarked  that  the  chief  characteristics  of 
Greek  art  were  masculine,  and  as  art  was  but  an  expression 
of  the  moral  and  religious,  the  same  may  be  predicated  of 
Greek  and  other  Pagan  religions.  The  admired  virtues 
were  distinctively  masculine:  courage,  self-assertion,  mag- 
nanimity, and  patriotism;  chastity,  modesty,  and  charity, 
the  feminine  virtues,  were,  with  the  exception  of  conjugal 
fidelity,  much  undervalued.  The  illustrious  women  of  an- 
tiquity owe  their  fame  to  masculine  qualities,  which  they 
were  able  to  achieve,  rather  than  to  the  feminine  virtues 
which  they  developed.  In  the  Spartan  mother  and  the 
mother  of  the  Gracchi  we  admire  the  masculine  repression  of 
grief,  and  in  Portia  and  Arria  the  majestic  masculine  courage; 

1  H.  Ellis,  Man  and  Woman,  p.  315. 


SEX  295 

feminine  virtues  were  unnamed— they  were  not  worthy  of 
record.  The  charge  is  made  that  "the  change  from  the 
heroic  to  the  saintly  ideal,  from  the  ideal  of  Paganism  to  the 
ideal  of  Christianity,  was  a  change  from  a  type  which  was 
essentially  male  to  one  which  was  essentially  feminine."1 

It  is  pointed  out  that  Stoicism  was  the  system  which  was 
most  emphatically  masculine,  while  Christianity,  in  which 
humility,  meekness,  gentleness,  patience,  trust,  and  love 
predominate,  is  essentially  feminine.  Even  in  these  days, 
when  there  is  the  tendency  toward  the  surrender  of  women 
to  the  masculine  ideal,  the  charge  is  reiterated  and  it  behooves 
us  to  ask  if  it  is  true.  Is  Christianity  feminine?  I  believe 
that,  in  general,  it  is.  In  our  churches  women  predominate 
in  the  membership  in  the  relation  of  about  thirteen  to  seven, 
and  in  attendance  at  church  services  even  greater  than  that; 
and  if  the  ideals  of  Christianity  which  are  usually  held,  and 
the  sermons  which  are  most  often  preached,  are  examined, 
it  will  readily  be  seen  that  they  are  distinctly  feminine.2 
It  is  charged  by  some  men  that  we  worship  weakness  rather 
than  strength;  this  is  not  so.  We  worship  feminine  strength 
rather  than  masculine.  "The  namby-pamby,  goody-goody 
conception  of  goodness  is  simply  an  exaggeration,  amounting 
to  caricature,  of  the  gentler  virtues  in  which  women  excel." 

If  this  is  the  situation  to-day,  we  must  look  for  causes, 
and  the  proper  place  to  begin,  is  with  the  founder,  Jesus. 
Was  Jesus  a  feminine  man?  Are  the  virtues  which  He  es- 
poused, and  the  doctrines  which  He  taught,  distinctively 
feminine?  I  believe  we  must  answer  "No,"  to  both  of 
these  questions.  If  His  character  and  doctrines  are  ex- 
amined, apart  from  the  traditions  of  the  church  and  the  in- 
terpretations of  the  past,  it  will  be  found  that  He  ministered 

1  W.  E.  H.  Lecky,  History  oj  European  Morals,  II,  pp.  361  ft. 

2  C.  D.  Case,  The  Masculine  in  Religion,  pp.  22-32;  G.  A.  Coe,  The 
Spiritual  Life,  p.  247  /. 


296  SEX 

to  both  the  masculine  and  feminine  natures,  as  would  be 
necessary  for  any  one  who  was  to  be  the  Savior  and  ideal  of 
both  sexes.  He  was  not  so  compassionate  that  He  could 
be  called  weak,  and  not  so  just  that  He  could  be  called 
cruel.     We  find  a  most  splendid  balance.1 

So  prevalent  does  the  idea  seem  to  be  that  Jesus  was  ef- 
feminate, and  so  exclusively  are  the  feminine  virtues  empha- 
sized in  His  church  to-day,  that  it  is  not  necessary  to  mention 
this  side.  The  manliness  of  Christ  is  the  matter  in  dispute. 
Case  concludes,  from  the  answers  to  a  questionnaire  which  he 
distributed,  that  there  are  four  phases  of  Christ's  life  that  are 
attractive  to  men  when  properly  presented,  viz.,  the  human 
as  the  counterpart  to  the  divine  Christ,  the  personal  as  op- 
posed to  the  theological  Christ,  the  modern  Christ  versus 
the  ancient  Christ,  and  the  masculine  Christ  as  opposed  to 
the  feminine.  It  is  the  last  point  which  particularly  inter- 
ests us  here.  But  is  there  a  masculine  Christ  ?  If  we  follow 
the  interpretation  of  the  Roman  Church,  which  most  do, 
we  should  answer  in  the  negative.  Roman  Catholic  art 
pictures  Him  as  most  effeminate,  and  He  is  always  described 
as  the  passive  sufferer,  with  hyper-developed  emotions. 
Let  us  see.  He  was  a  sufferer,  but  not  a  passive  one.  In 
no  way  can  we  see  the  resolution,  the  strength,  and  persist- 
ence of  will  as  by  viewing  His  life  in  connection  with  the 
suffering.  "He  steadfastly  set  His  face  toward  Jerusalem." 
He  conquered  notwithstanding  the  suffering.  Yes,  He 
conquered  by  and  through  the  suffering.  He  was  not  the 
docile,  buffeted  fool,  but  using  the  very  means  by  which 
others  sought  to  destroy  Him,  He  became  the  victor  and  hero. 
See  Him  as  He  stands,  the  only  calm  one  in  Pilate's  hall; 
see  Him  as  He  waits  for  the  mob  to  lay  hands  on  Him,  the 

1  See  T.  Hughes,  Manliness  of  Jesus;  R.  E.  Speer,  The  Man  Christ 
Jesus;  for  brief  analyses,  see  C.  D.  Case,  The  Masculine  in  Religion, 
chap.  X;  G.  A.  Coe,  The  Spiritual  Life,  pp.  256-260. 


SEX  297 

only  one  among  enemies  or  friends  not  manifesting  fear; 
see  Him  as  with  scourge  He  cleanses  the  temple,  and  see  if 
there  was  a  weak,  passive  individual  there.  In  circum- 
stances where  weak  men  would  have  quailed,  He  stood,  by 
the  very  power  of  the  strength  of  His  will,  and  overcame. 

Neither  was  the  doctrine  which  He  presented  of  a  passive 
character.  On  the  contrary,  in  contrast  to  Judaism  He 
presented  the  active  phase  of  life.  His  commands  were, 
"Thou  Shalt,"  Judaism  said,  "Thou  shalt  not";  and  here 
we  see  the  essential  difference  between  the  active  and  passive 
natures.  His  instructions  in  specific  incidents  point  not  to 
the  effeminate  life,  but  to  the  strong,  active,  perhaps  even 
harsh  duty,  especially  when  He  was  dealing  with  men.  He 
did  not  encourage  the  rich  young  man  in  the  life  of  luxury 
and  ease,  but  prescribed  for  him  the  most  drastic  remedy, 
an  act  capable  of  testing  the  masculine  qualities. 

Now,  what  is  true  of  the  will  we  can  predicate  of  the  in- 
tellect. Were  not  His  thoughts  profound,  touching  the  very 
depths  of  human  nature  ?  Some  of  the  principles  which  He 
enunciated  are  being  exploited  to-day  as  new  discoveries. 
Was  not  His  plan  one  worthy  of  the  highest  commendation  ? 
True,  it  was  despised  at  the  time,  but  it  has  stood  the  test  of 
nearly  two  millenniums  and  is  more  admired  to-day  than  ever 
before.  Do  not  His  tilts  with  His  enemies  who  were  schooled 
in  the  greatest  intellectuality  of  their  times  show  His  keen 
analysis  and  brilliant  acumen?  He  taught  with  authority, 
because  the  people  recognized  His  intellectual  greatness, 
He  was  sagacious  and  sane.  He  was  the  essence  of  original- 
ity and  refused  simply  to  copy  what  tradition  presented  to 
Him. 

Marvellous  in  self-control,  in  temptation,  and  when 
taunted;  splendid  in  the  moral  courage  which  He  showed 
when  compromise  seemed  the  part  of  policy,  and  strong  as  a 
leader  and  commander  of  men,  He  stands  before  us  supremely 


298  SEX 

manly.  In  saying  this  it  is  but  just  that  we  should  mention 
His  emotional  nature.  Tender  He  was,  kind,  loving,  self- 
sacrificing,  sympathetic,  and  compassionate — all  of  these. 
He  presents  to  us  that  strength  of  will  and  intellect  character- 
istic of  man,  and  that  strength  and  quality  of  the  emotional 
nature  characteristic  of  woman.  To  follow  Him  it  is  not 
necessary  for  men  to  become  effeminate,  nor  for  women  to 
play  the  man.  One  becomes  not  less  a  man  nor  less  a  woman 
by  being  Christ-like.  No  peculiar  temperament  must  be 
cultivated,  no  eccentricity  assumed,  no  extraordinary  con- 
duct developed,  in  order  to  be  Christ's  disciple;  but  each 
may  follow  in  his  own  way,  providing  he  act  naturally. 

The  all-sidedness  of  His  personality  and  the  comprehen- 
siveness of  His  doctrine  attract  all  men,  however  different 
they  may  be.  "To  be  strong  and  yet  tender,  brave  and 
yet  kind,  to  combine  in  the  same  breast  the  temper  of  a  hero 
with  the  sympathy  of  a  maiden— this  is  to  transform  the  ape 
and  the  tiger  into  what  we  know  ought  to  constitute  the 
man." 1  This  description  must  lead  us  to  Jesus  as  the  true 
ideal  of  manliness. 

Down  through  the  ages  there  has  been  a  strange  mixture 
of  the  masculine  and  feminine  in  Christianity.  The  offices 
of  the  church  have  always  been  held  by  men,  and  even  to- 
day there  is  a  prejudice  against  women  preachers.  The 
cruelty  manifested  at  times  and  the  organized  military  de- 
flection of  the  church  during  the  crusades  were  undoubtedly 
masculine.  On  the  other  hand,  monasticism  and  the  epi- 
demics of  the  more  emotional  and  transitory  character  were 
feminine.  The  worship  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  "The  Mother 
of  God,"  and  the  artistic  and  dogmatic  elements  introduced 
into  the  church,  were  also  feminine.  The  unbalanced  at- 
tachment to  the  person  of  Christ  rather  than  to  His  great 

1 G.  J.  Romanes,  Mental  Differences  between  Men  and  Women, 
Nineteenth  Century,  XXI,  p.  661. 


SEX  299 

doctrines  is  another  feminine  trait.  In  the  Middle  Ages 
religion  was  feminine  because  the  great  mass  of  men  took 
part  in  the  practical  things  of  life,  while  women  indulged 
in  religion,  and  the  great  trouble  was  that  one  was  set  over 
against  the  other. 

In  the  religious  upheaval  following  the  Reformation,  it  is 
undoubtedly  true  that  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  followed 
the  feminine  type  of  Christianity,  while  Protestantism  fol- 
lowed more  closely  the  masculine  type.  In  addition  to  retain- 
ing the  Virgin  worship,  Catholicism  by  music,  painting, 
impressive  architecture,  and  solemn  pageantry  fostered 
modes  of  feeling  and  imagination  rather  than  of  thought  and 
will,  and  by  the  assertion  of  supreme  authority  attracted 
women  whose  part  is  to  lean  rather  than  to  stand.  On  the 
other  hand,  Protestantism,  by  asserting  the  dignity  and  duty 
of  private  judgment  and  impressing  the  sense  of  individual 
responsibility,  furnished  a  religion  for  men  of  which  Puritan- 
ism was  the  most  masculine  form. 

Catholicism  softens  the  character,  while  Protestantism 
strengthens  it,  and  the  danger  is  that  they  may  degenerate 
into  weakness  or  hardness.  Loyalty  and  humility  flourish 
best  among  Roman  Catholics,  for  these  are  essentially 
feminine  virtues;  the  masculine  virtues  of  liberty  and  self- .  7' 
assertion  are  found  more  generally  among  Protestants.     It  <?^am# 


%r- 


was  a  mistake  that  Protestantism,  in  endeavoring  to  root  out 
the  evil  of  Catholicism,  did  not  reform  rather  than  destroy 
the   conventual  system  which   produced   in   some   cases  a 


_ ._.;;.,-= 

splendid  type  of  woman.     We  are  to-day  endeavoring  to    I ^£7 
restore  its  semblance  by  different  female  orders,  but  we  have      j 
lost  four  hundred  years  of  efficient  service.1     While  Protes-^ 
tantism  rejected  the  worship  of  the  Virgin,  it  still  retains  her 
characteristics  in  her  Son,  and  holds  the  passive  virtues  in 
disproportionate  esteem.   It  is  well  to  note  that  the  develop- 
1  W.  E.  H.  Lecky,  History  0}  European  Morals,  II,  pp.  368  ff. 


300  SEX 

ment  of  Christianity  toward  the  feminine  type  has  done  a 
good  service  in  elevating  woman,  and  this  is  no  small  ser- 
vice to  civilization  and  advancement. 

However  true  it  may  be  that  Protestantism  emphasizes 
more  than  Catholicism  the  masculine  type  of  Christianity, 
we  must  still  admit,  I  think,  that  our  churches  are  one- 
sided and  that  the  feminine  continues  to  be  over-emphasized. 
If  this  is  the  case,  we  should  expect  to  find,  what  we  actually 
do  find,  an  alienation  of  strong  men  from  the  church,  many 
of  whom  take  the  traditional  view  of  the  church,  because  they 
are  not  acquainted  with  the  more  masculine  type  of  Chris- 
tianity, which  is  being  presented  from  some  pulpits  to-day. 
Women  are  not  more  religious  than  men,  but  they  have  had 
their  wants  supplied,  while  men  who  have  hungered  and 
thirsted  after  righteousness,  have  been  handed  something  in- 
digestible. 

In  our  more  modern  system  of  living  some  additional 
reasons  may  be  given  why  the  feminine  type  is  fostered. 
"The  hand  that  rocks  the  cradle  is  the  hand  that  rules  the 
world."  The  mothers  have  been  the  religious  teachers  in 
the  homes  and  in  the  Sunday  Schools,  and  the  female  type  of 
Christianity  has  been  taught  boys  and  girls  alike,  and  only 
this  type  has  been  presented.  Our  new  views  on  pedagogy 
are  remedying  this  in  the  Sunday  Schools,  at  least.  The 
revival  method  has  been  an  important  factor  in  continuing 
the  predominance  of  women  in  the  churches.  "Woman  is 
easily  swayed  by  emotion.  Her  mental  constitution  is  fer- 
tile soil  for  external  suggestion  by  a  speaker  or  by  the  ex- 
ample of  a  friend.  And  it  is  not  at  all  wonderful  that  the 
drawing  of  the  gospel  net  should  reveal  so  frequently  an 
excess  of  the  feminine  among  the  multitude  of  fishes." 1 
Those  churches  which  use  the  revival  method  most  exten- 
sively in  procuring  new  members,  have  found  this  state- 

1  F.  M.  Davenport,  Primitive  Traits  in  Religious  Revivals,  p.  293  /. 


SEX  301 

ment  to  be  true.  On  the  other  hand,  some  churches  which 
shun  revivals,  have  catered  to  women  by  the  artistic  quality 
of  the  service  and  the  passive  quality  of  duty;  the  result  has 
therefore  not  been  far  different. 

"Does  not  the  worship  of  material  luxury  and  wealth, 
which  constitutes  so  large  a  portion  of  the  'spirit'  of  the  age, 
make  somewhat  for  effeminacy  and  unmanliness?  Is  not 
the  exclusively  sympathetic  and  facetious  way  in  which 
most  children  are  brought  up  to-day — so  different  from  the 
education  of  a  hundred  years  ago,  especially  in  evangelical 
circles — in  danger,  in  spite  of  its  many  advantages,  of  de- 
veloping a  certain  trashiness  of  fibre?  Are  there  not  here- 
abouts some  points  of  application  for  a  renovated  and  revised 
ascetic  discipline? 

"Many  of  you  would  recognize  such  dangers,  but  would 
point  to  athletics,  militarism,  and  individual  and  national 
enterprise  and  adventure  as  the  remedies.  These  contem- 
porary ideals  are  quite  as  remarkable  for  the  energy  with 
which  they  make  for  heroic  standards  of  life,  as  contempo- 
rary religion  is  remarkable  for  the  way  in  which  it  neglects 
them.  War  and  adventure  assuredly  keep  all  who  engage 
in  them  from  treating  themselves  too  tenderly." 1 

One  may  see  that  the  first  influence  which  Professor 
James  names,  is  far  more  influential  in  the  church  than  the 
latter,  especially  as  war  and  some  forms  of  athletics  are  not 
recognized  by  the  church  with  much  fervor.  Virility,  how- 
ever, will  manifest  itself,  and  must  make  itself  felt  in  Chris- 
tianity as  in  other  departments  of  life,  especially  when  the 
MAN  Jesus  is  better  known. 

1  W.  James,  The  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  p.  365. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

INTELLECT 
"'Tis  the  mind  that  makes  the  body  rich." — Shakespeare. 

Religion  is  so  comprehensive  that  we  find  persons  ap- 
proaching it  from  very  many  different  standpoints,  and  not 
infrequently  the  view  which  a  person  obtains  of  religious 
truth  seems  to  him  to  be  the  only  sane  one.  Conse- 
quently, we  find  persons  not  only  viewing  religion  through 
their  intellectual  spectacles,  but  defining  religion  as  an  in- 
tellectual affair.  For  example,  Martineau,  Romanes,  d'Al- 
viella,  Hegel,  Harnack,  and  others  present  definitions  which 
make  the  intellect  the  prime  factor  as  some  in  their  explana- 
tions consider  other  mental  activities  fundamental.  Reason 
is  not  the  whole  of  religion  but  it  is  one  factor — an  important 
factor. 

It  would  be  as  erroneous  to  endeavor  to  depreciate  this 
function  as  it  would  be  to  put  all  the  burden  upon  it.  Both 
of  these  one-sided  standpoints  have  been  taken  by  different 
investigators.  Glanvill  said,  "There  is  not  anything  I 
know,  which  hath  done  more  mischief  to  Religion  than  the 
disparaging  of  Reason."  This  is  probably  true,  but  it  would 
be  equally  true  if  we  substitute  either  "Emotion"  or  "Will" 
in  the  place  of  "Reason."  The  same  thing  would  also  be 
true  if  we  substitute  "undue  exaltation"  for  "disparaging" 
in  any  one  of  three  suggested  sentences.  In  other  words, 
the  symmetrical  functioning  of  the  various  factors  of  mind 
is  necessary  for  a  healthy  religious  life. 

In  pathological  cases  it  is  not  that  some  faculty  is  too 

303 


INTELLECT  303 

strong,  but  that  a  balance  is  lacking;  it  matters  not  how  strong 
the  different  factors  are  so  long  as  one  is  not  excessive.  It 
is  noticeable  that  in  most  abnormal  cases  the  balance  is  im- 
perfect on  account  of  a  deficiency  of  intellect.  The  lack  in 
the  emotions  or  even  in  the  will  does  not  appear  to  be  fol- 
lowed by  the  disastrous  results  that  intellectual  deficiency 
causes.  Strong  emotions  and  weak  intellect  are  a  most 
undesirable  combination.  This,  however,  is  not  infrequently 
seen  in  saintship.  St.  Gertrude  and  Margaret  Mary  Ala- 
coque  were  faithful  examples  of  this  condition,  while  St. 
Teresa  appeared  to  possess  a  strong  intellect  except  in  so 
far  as  her  judgment  of  ideals  was  concerned.  Fanaticism 
is  usually  associated  with  strong  emotions  and  will,  but  with 
a  weak  intellect,  or  at  least  with  a  narrow  intellectual  outlook. 

As  a  rule,  the  mystics  have  disparaged  the  intellect,  and 
where  reason  was  extolled  an  extraordinary  interpretation 
was  given.  St.  John  of  the  Cross,  for  example,  considered 
the  sacrifice  of  the  reason  as  part  of  the  crucifixion  of  the 
old  man.  On  the  other  hand,  Whichcote,  Smith,  and  other 
Latitudinarians  extolled  reason,  and  through  it  tried  to  es- 
tablish a  basis  for  the  union  of  all  Christians.  Wordsworth, 
too,  gives  the  reason  an  exalted  place.  These,  however, 
are  the  exceptions  and  not  the  rule,  for  many  follow  William 
Law  in  his  position  as  a  declared  enemy  of  the  use  of  reason 
in  religion. 

If  it  were  desirable,  which  it  is  not,  to  emphasize  any  one 
intellectual  factor  or  to  eliminate  any,  it  would  be  impossible 
to  do  so,  for  all  the  mental  activities  are  so  intertwined  and 
related  that  we  cannot  isolate  any.  It  may  be  well,  then,  for 
us  to  inquire  the  relation  of  the  others  to  the  intellect.  If 
we  may  say  that  simply  because  a  man  is  intellectual  he  is 
not  religious,  we  may  say  that  he  cannot  be  religious  without 
being  intellectual  in  some  sense.  There  is  a  universal  faith 
in  reason  underlying  all  religions,  for  human  experience, 


3o4  INTELLECT 

whether  it  be  religious  or  otherwise,  must  undertake  to 
understand  itself;  the  rationality  of  any  religion  will  finally 
determine  its  place  and  standing,  and  the  only  claim  which 
any  religion  has  to  be  worthy  of  universal  acceptance  is  an 
appeal  to  the  court  of  human  reason  as  a  judge  of  the  con- 
tent of  the  truth  held  by  it. 

We  may  say  that  some  persons  are  religious  and  yet  are  not 
very  intellectual;  that  may  be  so.  Intellectuality,  like  will,  is 
a  matter  of  development,  and  simply  because  a  man  is  a  man, 
he  is  not  necessarily,  therefore,  as  intellectual  as  other  men; 
this  is  no  more  true  than  to  say  that  he  has  the  same  amount 
of  will  because  he  is  human.  A  man  may  be  religious  with- 
out possessing  an  abundance  of  intellectuality,  but  he  can- 
not be  religious  in  the  highest  or  most  symmetrical  way  if 
he  is  lacking  in  this  particular.  Religion  is  not  an  intel- 
lectual affair  entirely,  but  it  must  be  reasonable  neverthe- 
less; even  if  some  things  are  inexplicable,  they  are  not  there- 
by ^rational.  The  reasonableness  of  Christianity  is  its 
only  claim  upon  the  attention  of  man,  and  this  appeal  is  be- 
coming stronger  rather  than  weaker. 

Religion  must  not  disparage  reason — the  church  which 
endeavors  to  crush  out  criticism  and  inquiry,  is  removing 
the  props  from  under  it.  The  debt  which  the  church  owes 
reason  for  past  services  is  incalculable,  but  even  more  in 
the  future  reason  will  be  required. 

"Religion  must  indeed  be  a  thing  of  the  heart;  but  in 
order  to  elevate  it  from  the  region  of  subjective  caprice 
and  waywardness,  and  to  distinguish  between  that  which 
is  true  and  false  in  religion,  we  must  appeal  to  an  objective 
standard.  That  which  enters  the  heart  must  first  be  dis- 
cerned by  the  intelligence  to  be  true.  It  must  be  seen  as 
having  in  its  own  nature  a  right  to  dominate  feeling,  and  as 
constituting  the  principle  by  which  feeling  must  be  judged. 
In  estimating  the  religious  character  of  individuals,  nations, 


INTELLECT 


3°5 


or  races,  the  first  question  is,  not  how  they  feel,  but  what 
they  think  and  believe — not  whether  their  religion  is  one 
which  manifests  itself  in  emotions,  more  or  less  vehement 
and  enthusiastic,  but  what  are  the  conceptions  of  God  and 
divine  things  by  which  these  emotions  are  called  forth. 
Feeling  is  necessary  in  religion,  but  it  is  by  the  content  or 
intelligent  basis  of  a  religion,  and  not  by  feeling,  that  its 
character  and  work  are  to  be  determined." x 

Reason  is  the  final  arbiter;  if  we  are  to  obey  the  injunction 
to  "try  every  spirit,"  how  are  we  to  do  it  except  by  the  reason  ? 
The  question  of  how  we  may  justify  the  exalted  claims  of 
reason  as  the  supreme  judge  in  all  matters,  and  therefore 
in  religion,  is  a  valid  one,  but  one  which  would  take  us  too  far 
afield  into  the  theoretical  aspects,  and  also  necessarily  into  the 
philosophical  side  of  epistemology,  to  be  within  our  scope  here. 

Emotion  may  be — is — one  source  of  religion,  but  reason 
is  nevertheless  a  source  in  the  race  and  in  the  individual, 
and,  if  we  can  read  the  signs  of  the  times,  promises  to  be  more 
and  more  important  in  the  days  to  come.  While  the  grow- 
ing importance  of  reason  is  apparent,  I  can  hardly  agree  with 
Ribot  when  he  says  that  "religion  tends  to  turn  to  religious 
philosophy";  the  roots  of  the  emotional  nature  are  too  deep- 
seated  to  be  eradicated — the  emotions  will  simply  be  guided 
and  controlled.  If  there  is  a  tendency  to-day,  it  seems  to  be 
in  the  direction  of  conduct,  i.  e.,  the  volitional  side  of  religion. 
Inge  says,  "The  life  of  the  spirit  perhaps  begins  with  mere 
feeling,  and  perhaps  will  be  consummated  in  mere  feeling, 
but  during  its  struggles  to  enter  into  its  full  inheritance,  it 
gathers  up  into  itself  the  activities  of  all  the  faculties,  which 
act  harmoniously  together  in  proportion  as  the  organism 
to  which  they  belong  is  in  a  healthy  state."2    The  only 

1  J.  Caird,  Introduction  to  the  Philosophy  of  Religion,  pp.  174  and  186, 
quoted  by  W.  James,  The  Varieties  0}  Religious  Experience,  p.  434. 
'  W.  R.  Inge,  Christian  Mysticism,  p.  331. 


3o6  INTELLECT 

criticism  I  have  of  this  is  a  doubt  of  the  consummation  of 
life  in  feeling. 

Not  only  can  religion  use  intellectual  processes,  but  we 
may  say  that  all  of  man's  reasoning  powers  are  normally 
committed  to  the  service  of  religion.  The  intellect  cannot 
be  disregarded  as  a  source.  If  we  should  admit  the  probable 
beginning  of  religion  in  primitive  feeling,  it  would  inevitably 
follow  that  no  more  than  the  first  step  could  be  taken  with- 
out the  definite  use  of  intellect  in  connection  with  the  feeling. 
Both  religion  and  science,  in  a  search  for  origins,  would  come 
upon  intellectual  curiosity  very  near  the  bottom.1  Whatever 
may  be  the  object  of  religious  faith,  reason  must  aid  in  the 
construction  of  it,  and  it  is  apparent  that  only  the  human  in- 
tellect and  imagination  are  equal  to  the  task  of  framing  a 
conception  of  God.  In  any  religious  or  other  matter,  the 
intellect  clarifies  and  systematizes  and  declares  what  is 
worthy  of  admiration,  and  it  is  noticeable  that  even  those 
who  lay  special  emphasis  on  feeling  in  religion  recognize 
the  dependence  of  feeling  upon  the  intellect  for  its  develop- 
ment.2 Some  have  had  a  distinct  sense  of  the  presence  of 
God  while  engaged  in  intellectual  pursuits,  as  in  the  study 
of  science,  and  even  during  intellectual  doubt;3  others  have 
approached  God  only  by  a  search  for  intellectual  consistency. 

"  The  Reformers  taught  that  while  the  natural  understand- 
ing is  competent  to  judge  of  the  external  evidence  of  Revela- 
tions— to  perceive,  for  example,  the  force  of  the  argument 
from  miracles — yet,  for  a  spiritual  discernment  of  the  contents 
of  Scripture,  and  for  an  inward,  living  perception  and  con- 
viction of  the  reality  of  the  gospel  there  unfolded,  the  testi- 
mony of  the  Holy  Ghost,  imparted  directly  to  the  heart,  is 
requisite.     Luther,  in  severe  and  extravagant  terms,  assails 

1  G.  T.  Ladd,  The  Philosophy  of  Religion,  I,  pp.  273,  298  ft.,  and  320. 

2  C.  C.  Everett,  The  Psychological  Elements  0}  Religious  Faith,  p.  87. 

3  G.  A.  Coe,  The  Religion  oj  a  Mature  Mind,  p.  235. 


INTELLECT  307 

the  pretensions  of  reason  to  judge  in  the  sphere  of  divine 
truth;  but  his  assault  is  really  directed  against  reason  as 
darkened  by  sin  and  swayed  by  an  unwarrantable  bias. 
Yet,  possibly  a  reminiscence  of  Occam's  teaching  on  the 
contradictions  of  faith  and  science  may  have  had  its  influ- 
ence. The  Socinians,  who  acknowledged  no  such  blinding 
influence  of  moral  evil,  magnified  the  capacity  of  reason  in 
its  relation  to  religious  inquiry.  They  not  only  insisted 
that  nothing  contrary  to  reason  could  be  accepted ;  they  were 
prone  to  attribute  to  a  false  interpretation  scripture  doc- 
trines, like  the  Trinity,  which  seemed  to  their  minds  incon- 
sistent  with  reason."  1 

We  no  longer  hear  of  the  warfare  of  science  and  religion 
to-day;  science  is  resting  more  fully  on  the  postulates  of 
religion,  and  religion  is  becoming  more  scientific.  This 
is  inevitable  as  we  get  a  clearer  and  more  distinct  understand- 
ing of  the  nature  of  both.  There  is  less  of  a  disposition  to 
discredit  the  services  of  reason  in  our  churches  to-day,  and 
a  marked  sympathy  with  the  use  of  the  intellect  in  religion 
is  apparent.  This  is  shown,  among  other  ways,  by  a  less 
frequent  use  of  the  antithesis  of  intellectuality  and  de- 
votionalism  than  was  formerly  the  case,  and  even  the  most 
emotional  are  recognizing  the  use  of  reason  in  devotion,  and 
of  devotion  in  the  religious  use  of  the  reason.  Tennyson's 
words  can  now  be  voiced, 

"Let  knowledge  grow  from  more  to  more, 
But  more  of  reverence  in  us  dwell." 

Professor  Leuba  says,  "the  will,  born  blind,  generates 
the  intellect  in  order  to  have  a  guide.  It  is  the  intellect 
which  interprets  and  organizes  the  chaos  in  which  the  will 
finds  itself  on  awakening.  In  religion,  for  instance,  the  in- 
tellect spurred  to  its  task  by  certain  needs,  creates  divinities. 

1  G.  P.  Fisher,  History  of  the  Christian  Church,  p.  440. 


3o8  INTELLECT 

There  would  be  no  theology  if  there  were  no  religious  needs 
and  purposes.  The  creative  freedom  of  the  intellect  is, 
of  course,  checked  from  several  sides,  chiefly  perhaps  by 
the  logical  claims  made  by  the  external  world."  1 

Some  have  demanded  that  religion  should  abandon  the 
intellectual  pursuits  of  deduction  and  metaphysics  and  take 
up  induction  and  criticism;  a  priori  conclusions  are  depre- 
cated and  the  scientific  extolled.  There  is  also  a  demand 
for  perpetual  health  and  a  never-ending  natural  life  in  place 
of  sickness  and  death,  but  in  neither  case  is  there  any  im- 
mediate prospect  of  a  fulfilment  of  the  demand.  True, 
religion  may  adopt  a  scientific  method,  but  it  cannot  be  freed 
from  metaphysical  assumptions  any  more  than  science  can. 
However  much  we  may  wish  it,  religion  can  never  eschew 
metaphysics,  because  it  is  always  a  theory  of  reality.  This, 
it  is  true,  is  outside  our  realm  of  investigation,  but  is,  never- 
theless, vital  to  a  correct  understanding  of  the  intellectual 
sphere. 

In  some  recent  psychological  studies2  belief  is  analyzed 
and  divided  into  three  classes.  Belief  is  defined  as  "the 
mental  attitude  of  assent  to  the  reality  of  a  given  object." 
The  three  divisions  are,  (i)  Primitive  Credulity;  (2)  Intel- 
lectual Belief;  (3)  Emotional  Belief.  The  religion  of  prim- 
itive peoples  and  of  children  is  that  of  the  first  class.  Here 
also  should  be  placed  the  Christianity  of  the  Middle  Ages, 
notwithstanding  the  exceptions  among  a  few  independent 
thinkers  of  that  time.  The  Middle  Ages  represent  the  re- 
ligion ruled  by  the  authority  of  tradition,  and  hence  must 
be  classed  as  Primitive  Credulity.  The  religion  which 
rests  upon  the  authority  of  experts  is  classed  under  the  second 

1  J.  H.  Leuba,  "The  Field  and  Problems  of  the  Psychology  of  Re- 
ligion," The  American  Journal  of  Religious  Psychology  and  Education, 
I,  p.   161. 

2  J.  B.  Pratt,  The  Psychology  0}  Religious  Belief. 


INTELLECT  309 

head — Intellectual  Belief.  Pratt  believes  that  Primitive 
Credulity  is  an  experience  of  the  past  and  is  no  longer  to  be 
reckoned  with.  Intellectual  Belief  comes  only  after  doubt, 
and  its  conclusions  are  founded  on  a  rational  basis. 

The  eighteenth  century  was  the  age  of  Rationalism — the 
age  of  the  religion  of  the  understanding,  of  which  John 
Locke  was  the  champion.  However  much  men  might 
differ  in  their  conclusions,  they  agreed  that  they  could  only 
be  reached  through  arguments.  Religious  faith  must  be 
based  on  reason,  and  that  alone.  Out  of  seventy-seven 
answers  to  Pratt's  questionnaire,  twenty-two  would  be  classed 
as  Intellectual  Belief,  because  they  rested  on  the  authority 
of  experts.  As  Primitive  Credulity  is  dead,  so  is  Intellectual 
Belief  dying,  and  the  fate  of  Christianity  rests  in  the  hands 
of  Emotional  Belief. 

This  latter  class  is  in  turn  divided  into  two  parts.  Those 
whose  faith  springs  from  a  demand  or  desire — a  will  to  be- 
lieve, and  those  whose  faith  is  controlled  by  a  touch  of  mys- 
ticism, as  e.  g.,  those  who  experience  the  presence  of  God, 
or  confuse  aesthetic  with  religious  emotions.  Of  Pratt's 
seventy-seven  answers,  forty  belong  to  this  class,  and  sixteen 
others  contain  accounts  of  mystical  experiences,  although 
they  are  not  classed  here.  Another  definition  of  belief 
is  added:  not  only  is  belief  intellectual  assent,  but  another 
kind  is  defined  as  emotional  conviction  or  reality  feeling 
— the  latter  being  the  most  common,  as  it  includes  the  third 
class.  This  belief  of  demand  or  feeling  is  vital  rather  than 
theoretical,  and  must  be  experienced  to  be  known.  Much 
emphasis  is  laid  upon  subconscious  influences  in  this  form 
of  belief,  where  the  ideas  which  dominate  become  more  real 
and  vivid  through  marginal  or  subconscious  feeling. 

This  is  a  brief  resume  of  Professor  Pratt's  position,  and  is 
subject  to  the  following  criticisms.  In  the  endeavor  to 
establish  his  thesis  it  is  over-emphasized — which,  by  the  way, 


3io  INTELLECT 

is  a  sin  so  common  as  to  be  usually  considered  no  subject 
for  criticism.  The  value  of  the  intellectual  processes  he 
acknowledges  in  parentheses,  but  they  are  undoubtedly 
undervalued.  The  greatest  fault,  and  this  because  it  is  so 
misleading,  is  the  name  he  applies  to  the  last  division;  it  is 
a  misnomer.  While  he  lays  undue  emphasis  on  the  emo- 
tional factor  in  belief,  he  also  acknowledges  that  it  is  a  vital, 
comprehensive  experience.  What  he  crowds  into  the  first 
division  of  Emotional  Belief  might,  with  equal  justice,  be 
considered  under  the  rubric  of  will.  In  fact,  it  seems  that 
the  voluntary  rather  than  the  emotional  is  playing  the  lead- 
ing r61e  in  religion  to-day,  and  in  belief  as  in  other  depart- 
ments. The  pragmatic  tendency  he  places  under  the  head 
of  emotionalism,  but  is  it  not  conative?  It  appeals  to  the 
active,  practical  affairs  of  life.  But  admitting,  as  he  does, 
the  undoubted  value  and  presence  of  the  intellect  and  the 
will  in  the  Emotional  Belief,  even  if  the  Emotions  are  empha- 
sized, a  more  comprehensive  name  might  have  been  chosen, 
and  a  more  balanced  presentation  given,  which  would  have 
allowed  us  all  to  agree  with  him.  Belief  can  never  be  wholly 
or  principally  an  emotional  characteristic,  and  I  do  not  be- 
lieve that  the  present  age  is  gravitating  in  that  direction. 
It  is  largely  emphasizing  the  intellect,  and  especially  the 

will. 

One  great  difficulty  in  our  discussion  of  reason,  as  in  many 
other  departments  of  thought,  is  in  the  varying  definitions 
of  the  word.  This  is  true,  whether  the  word  is  understood 
in  the  popular  or  psychological  and  philosophical  way. 
Take,  for  example,  the  various  ways  in  which  Kant  used 
this  term  in  his  critical  treatises.  This  has  been  a  fault, 
not  only  of  Kant,  but  of  men  before  and  since  his  time. 
The  difficulty  may  be  that  man  has  never  fully  succeeded  in 
understanding  his  own  rational  nature,  and  that  one-sided 
or  partial  views  have  existed  among  different  men  or  in  the 


INTELLECT 


3" 


same  man  at  different  times.  The  word  "reason"  may,  for 
instance,  refer  to  the  logical  process  of  thought,  or  to  that 
which  determines  for  us  what  appears  to  be  reasonable  or 
unreasonable.  Until  we  get  a  more  exact  terminology,  we 
must  expect  to  be  misunderstood  and  ambiguous. 

The  nature  of  belief  depends,  not  entirely  upon  the  in- 
tellectual processes  as  such,  but  upon  the  nature  of  the  ob- 
jects of  belief.1  Intellectual  assent  it  may  be,  but  in  certain 
cases  it  is  more.  This  something  more  is  probably  the 
presence  of  the  emotional  and  volitional  elements,  and  de- 
pends not  altogether  on  how  we  grasp  the  object,  but  on 
how  the  object  appeals  to  us.  True  belief  in  anything  im- 
plies that  we  shall  respond  actively  to  all  that  this  belief  in- 
volves. In  some  cases  mere  intellectual  assent  may  be  all 
that  is  implied  in  a  belief,  in  other  cases  it  must  touch  the 
foundations  of  our  life.  Notice  the  gradations  in  the  follow- 
ing propositions.  I  believe  that  the  earth  is  round  or  flat. 
I  make  a  simple  intellectual  assent  to  this,  it  demands  no 
response  or  action  on  my  part  except  this  assent.  I  believe 
that  honesty  is  the  best  policy;  that  requires  more  response, 
the  will  must  become  active  in  carrying  out  the  implications 
of  this  belief.  I  believe  that  I  am  a  child  of  God,  this  per- 
meates every  department  of  life — it  comprehends  the  whole 
man,  intellectual,  emotional,  and  volitional.  No  mere  in- 
tellectual assent  will  suffice,  and  it  requires  a  response  in 
my  every  act  of  life.  This  is  where  much  ambiguity  has 
been  generated.  A  belief  in  Jesus  Christ  does  not  mean  a 
mere  intellectual  assent  to  His  having  lived  in  Palestine 
nearly  two  millenniums  ago,  but  means  the  acceptance  of  His 
doctrines  to-day.  Spiritual  truths  are  always  more  com- 
prehensive than  ordinary  facts  of  life,  and  consequently  be- 
lief in  religious  tenets  and  in  scientific  and  historical  facts 
may  mean  very  different  things,  although  the  one  word  be- 
1 H.  W.  Clark,  The  Philosophy  o]  Christian  Experience,  pp.  165-173. 


3i2  INTELLECT 

lief  is  used  in  both.  Of  course,  to  have  real  belief,  its  con- 
tents must  harmonize  with  our  life  as  a  whole,  or  we  must 
make  our  lives  harmonize  with  it — it  must  take  in  the  whole 
man.  This  unification  of  life  is  the  great  province  of  Chris- 
tianity, it  unifies  life  under  one  supreme  ideal. 

Let  us  now  turn  to  two  factors  of  the  intellectual  life 
which  are  wont  to  hold  a  foremost  place  in  religious  life — 
doubt  and  faith. 

Intellectual  doubt  in  religious  matters  is  not  uncommon, 
but  may  be  designated,  I  believe,  as  particularly  an  adoles- 
cent phenomenon.  This  is  the  age  of  remorseless  criticism, 
which  inevitably  lands  the  individual  into  doubt  of  everything 
that  does  not  satisfy  his  most  exacting  standards.  During 
this  time  the  youth  demands  facts  to  settle  all  questions 
which  he  may  ask — and  they  are  legion — and  failing  this, 
is  thrown  into  doubt.  He  demands  far  more  than  he  is  able 
to  assimilate,  and  in  matters  of  religion  the  most  he  can  get 
is  not  satisfying.  The  answers  to  most  of  his  questions  can 
only  be  given  by  the  somewhat  slow  process  of  experience, 
and  perhaps  the  most  that  can  be  done  is  to  try  to  guide  him 
and  request  him  to  keep  his  mind  open.  The  activity  of 
experience  may  satisfy  him  better  than  the  most  exact  logical 
syllogisms.  In  some  cases  the  doubts  may  be  so  serious  as 
to  develop  into  worry  or  melancholia,  but  in  such  cases  there 
are  likely  to  be  some  physical  complications. 

In  Starbuck's  investigations  he  found  that  doubts  began 
at  about  eleven  or  twelve  years,  but  reached  their  highest 
point  in  females  at  fifteen  or  sixteen  and  in  males  at  eigh- 
teen. With  both  it  is  later  than  the  period  of  greatest  physi- 
cal growth  and  of  conversion,  but  corresponds  to  that  of 
asserted  mental  and  emotional  activity.  He  also  found  that 
educational  influences  were  the  most  prolific  occasion  for 
doubt,  furnishing  twenty-three  per  cent,  in  females,  and 
seventy-three  per  cent,  in  males,  and  that  the  object  of  doubt 


INTELLECT  313 

most  frequently  centred  around  conventional  theological 
doctrines,  as  e.  g.,  authority  and  inspiration  of  the  Bible, 
divinity  of  Christ  or  existence  of  God.  His  conclusion  is 
that  "adolescence  is  for  women  primarily  a  period  of  storm 
and  stress,  while  for  men  it  is  in  the  highest  sense  a  period 
of  doubt."1 

We  must  recognize,  however,  that  doubt  is  not  confined  to 
the  adolescent  period,  even  although  it  may  seem  to  be  most 
active  then.  Some  would  characterize  the  present  time  as  an 
age  of  doubt,  but  if  so  it  is  doubt  in  its  best  form.  It  would 
be  more  nearly  correct  to  designate  it  as  an  age  of  inquiry; 
to-day,  in  our  search  for  truth,  we  are  re-examining  every 
tenet.  The  iron  hand  of  authority  has  less  weight  and  is  less 
feared  than  formerly,  and  men  are  thinking  for  themselves 
as  never  before.  They  feel  a  personal  responsibility  for 
their  beliefs,  which  they  cannot  shift  to  ecclesiastical  author- 
ities or  any  one  else,  however  willing  they  may  be  to  ac- 
cept it.  The  creeds  which  fitted  our  fathers  are  as  incon- 
gruous as  would  be  their  clothes;  we  are  taking  them  for 
what  they  are  worth.  No  value  is  destroyed  or  depreciated, 
but  the  outgrown  is  laid  aside,  and  we  accept  that  which 
can  be  of  use  to  us.  Critical  inquiry  there  is  to-day  and  per- 
haps some  less  valuable  form  of  doubt,  but  it  is  simply  a 
quicker  and  more  energetic  method  of  winnowing,  character- 
istic of  our  times. 

Moses2  has  divided  cases  of  doubt  into  four  classes,  ac- 
cording to  the  result  which  followed:  (1)  Those  which  led 
to  new  beliefs  or  the  revelation  of  new  truths.  (2)  Those 
resulting  in  a  return  to  old  truths.  (3)  Those  causing  either 
indifference  or  hostility  to  religion.  (4)  Those  which  never 
ceased,  but  continued  as  a  never-ending  turmoil.    The  di- 

1  G.  A.  Coe,  The  Spiritual  Life,  pp.  58-67;  E.  D.  Starbuck,  The 
Psychology  of  Religion,  pp.  232-243. 

2  J.  Moses,  Pathological  Aspects  of  Religions,  pp.  193-207. 


3i4  INTELLECT 

visions  might  have  been  made  from  other  standpoints,  but 
this  scheme  has  the  virtue  of  distinguishing  .the  cases  where 
doubt  is  of  value  from  those  where  doubt  ends  disastrously. 
Doubt  is  thus  not  an  unmixed  evil,  nor  an  inevitable  source 
of  good.  The  emphasis  is  usually  placed  on  the  destructive 
element  in  it;  perhaps  we  might  tarry  for  a  moment  to  indi- 
cate some  of  its  good  features.  Doubt  stimulates  investiga- 
tion, thereby  freeing  religion  from  past  errors  and  passing 
on  to  new  intellectual  victories.  Mixed  as  it  usually  is  with 
a  certain  amount  of  faith,  it  maintains  a  balance  which  as- 
sists in  a  symmetrical  and  harmonious  development;  this 
is  especially  true  in  adolescence.  Beliefs  never  become  so 
really  ours  as  when,  receiving  them  not  on  the  authority 
of  others  but  after  a  period  of  doubt,  we  decide  on  their 
truthfulness.  Truth  usually  carries  its  authority  with  it,  and 
a  careful  search  stimulated  by  doubt  not  unusually  betrays 
its  stamp  of  genuineness.     Potentially,  if  not  actually, 

"There  lies  more  faith  in  honest  doubt, 
Believe  me,  than  in  half  the  creeds." 

The  exaltation  of  faith  by  Jesus  and  the  New  Testament 
writers  has  necessarily  made  it  an  important  factor  in  re- 
ligion. Its  importance  as  a  practical  element  has  been 
somewhat  minimized  by  the  lack  of  exact  definitions  and  the 
consequent  multitudinous  interpretations  both  theoretical 
and  practical.  It  has  been  opposed  to  or  connected  with 
almost  all  mental  activities  by  different  theologians  and  in 
different  ages.  The  exact  chronological  position  of  faith 
has  also  been  the  cause  of  much  discussion. 

"Augustine  laid  down  the  maxim  that  'faith  precedes 
knowledge';  that  is,  a  living  experience  of  the  gospel  is  req- 
uisite for  insight  into  its  meaning.  .  .  .  The  priority  of 
faith  to  religious  science  is  at  the  basis  of  the  scholastic 
philosophy   of  religion.     'I   believe   in   order   that   I   may 


INTELLECT  315 

understand/  is  adopted  as  a  ruling  maxim  by  Anselm.  'He 
who  has  not  believed,'  he  tells  us,  'has  not  experienced,  and 
he  who  has  not  experienced  will  not  understand.'  The  heart 
anticipates  the  analytic  work  of  the  understanding.  There 
is  an  inward  certitude,  founded  on  love  to  the  contents  of 
the  gospel,  and  this  love  is  the  light  of  the  soul.  'The 
merit  of  faith,'  says  Hugo  of  St.  Victor,  'consists  in  the  fact 
that  our  conviction  is  determined  by  the  affections,  when  no 
adequate  knowledge  is  yet  present.  By  faith  we  render  our- 
selves worthy  of  knowledge,  as  perfect  knowledge  is  the  final 
reward  of  faith  in  the  life  eternal.'  As  to  the  capacity  of 
reason,  Duns  Scotus  distinguishes  between  its  power  to 
discover  truth  for  itself,  and  its  power  to  recognize  and  ac- 
cept truth  when  it  is  communicated.  Acquinas  divides  re- 
ligious truths  into  two  classes;  Such  as  are  above  reason, 
like  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  and  such  as  are  ac- 
cessible to  reason,  like  the  doctrine  of  the  being  of  one 
God."  » 

Among  the  recent  attempts  to  solve  the  difficulty  Leuba2 
has  divided  the  experiences  into  two  classes,  under  the  cap- 
tions of  Faith-state  and  Faith-belief.  Faith-state  involves 
the  whole  man,  similar  to  the  emotions,  and  Faith-belief 
is  the  effect  of  this  upon  the  intellectual  life.  "  Faith-state  is 
a  particular  emotion  (probably  identical  with  asexual  love), 
specifically  distinct  from  other  emotions  or  sentiments,  but 
entirely  like  them  in  what  is  distinctive  in  that  class  of  ex- 
perience. From  the  point  of  view  of  development,  Faith 
may  appear  as  an  inner  adaptation,  by  which  is  established 
a  living  sense  of  relationship,  nay,  a  union,  between  the  indi- 
vidual and  ideal  powers.     By  this  inner  adaptation  man 

1  G.  P.  Fisher,  History  of  the  Christian  Church,  pp.  140  and  219. 

8  J.  H.  Leuba,  "Faith,"  American  Journal  oj  Religious  Psychology 
and  Education,  I,  pp.  65-82;  "Studies  in  the  Psychology  of  Religious 
Phenomena,"  American  Journal  oj  Psychology,  VII,  pp.  337-364. 


3i6  INTELLECT 

enters,  to  some  extent,  into  possession  of  the  virtues  he  con- 
ceives to  adhere  in  the  object  of  his  faith  and  which  he  needs 
in  order  to  satisfy  his  higher  cravings."  "The  core  of  the 
Faith-state  is  a  particular  attitude  and  an  increased  efficiency 
of  the  will  in  consequence  of  which  an  ideal  of  life  becomes 
realizable.  It  is  a  constructive  response  to  a  need;  a  specific 
emotion  of  the  sthenic  type,  subserving,  as  emotions  do, 
a  particular  end." 

It  has  long  been  recognized  that  belief,  in  the  technical 
sense,  could  never  be  reduced  to  a  simple  assent,  as  Faraday 
and  his  sect  maintained;  but  that  faith  must  be  vital  and  active, 
springing  from  the  depths  of  the  nature  and  controlling  ex- 
ternal actions  and  conduct.  It  is  this  conception  which 
justifies  the  above  distinction,  recognizing  that  faith  is  some- 
thing more  than  belief,  but  less  than  knowledge,  and  hav- 
ing in  it  a  motive  power  which  incites  to  action.  Far  from 
the  intellectual  being  the  only  factor  in  faith,  in  what  is 
designated  as  faith-state  there  may  be  a  minimum  of  in- 
tellectual content,  and  then  the  state  is  largely  emotional, 
akin  to  love.  The  idea  of  faith  as  an  intellectual  makeshift, 
to  be  substituted  when  knowledge  fails  us,  is  to  be  deprecated. 
In  this  way  faith  has  been  placed  in  antithesis  to  knowledge; 
religion  has  extolled  faith  as  being  an  intellectual  process 
of  value  where  knowledge  could  not  reach,  while  science  has 
put  forth  the  intellectual  claims  of  knowledge  as  more  cer- 
tain than  faith.  Faith,  however,  is  still  more  comprehensive 
and  contains  in  addition  an  important  volitional  element. 
Were  it  not  for  this,  the  Christian  demand  for  faith  would  be 
without  excuse.  He  who  follows  the  commands  of  Christ, 
and  uses  his  time  and  talents  faithfully,  is  a  man  of  faith. 
A  certain  state,  then,  which  comprehends  all  our  mental 
factors,  seems  to  be  more  descriptive  of  faith  than  any  one 
element,  and  shows  further  how  the  different  terms,  love, 
faith,  and  doing,  are  but  different  view  points  of  the  same 


INTELLECT  317 

life-embracing  condition.  Any  one  of  these  carried  to  its 
logical  conclusion,  includes  all  the  rest.1 

We  must  not,  however,  eliminate  the  intellectual  element, 
and  thereby  take  a  view  as  extreme  as  that  which  sees  noth- 
ing but  intellect  in  faith.  In  the  intellectual  realm,  faith  is 
more  nearly  related  to  belief  than  to  cognition.  The  Object 
of  religion,  God,  on  account  of  characteristics  as  an  Ideal, 
is  more  properly  spoken  of  as  an  object  of  rational  faith 
than  as  an  object  of  knowledge.  Faith,  here,  is  not  equiva- 
lent to  mere  belief,  much  less  credulity,  but  is  more  compre- 
hensive and  authoritative  than  either.  This  does  not  mean 
that  faith  may  at  any  time  be  irrational  and  be  of  much 
service  to  religion;  rational  faith  is  the  ideal  which  is  or  should 
be  set  before  Christians.  If  this  is  true,  then  dogma  must 
follow.  If  the  content  of  our  faith  is  rationally  defensible, 
some  authoritative  formulation  is  inevitable,  however  much 
this  may  need  to  be  changed  as  new  facts  are  revealed,  and 
however  much  error  may  creep  into  religion  thereby. 

Faith  carries  with  it  two  convictions  concerning  its  object; 
first,  it  is  convinced  of  its  reality — something  corresponding 
in  reality  to  that  in  which  it  believes;  second,  the  trust- 
worthiness of  the  object  as  one  in  which  it  can  place  con- 
fidence. In  Christianity  this  is  best  manifested  in  the  filial 
attitude.  The  true  sons  of  God  believe  that  He  is,  and 
that  He  is  the  rewarder  of  them  that  diligently  seek  Him. 
When  this  state  is  reached,  then  dogma  is  imperative.  Faith 
may  become  a  kind  of  self-knowledge,  when  it  reveals  the 
relation  in  which  the  self  stands  to  its  ideal;  then  judgments 
of  worth  are  not  the  least  of  its  value.  Faith  in  the  perfec- 
tion of  God  and  His  rule  is  the  final  triumph  of  righteous- 
ness, and  is  only  achieved  when  the  truths  of  revelation  are 
coupled  with  the  loftiest  religious  experience. 

JB.  B.  Warfield,  Art.  "Faith,"  Hastings's  Bible  Dictionary,  I,  pp. 
827  ft. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

KNOWLEDGE 

"Give  me  the  ocular  proof; — 
Make  me  see  't;  or  at  least,  so  prove  it, 
That  the  probation  bear  no  hinge,  no  loop, 
To  hang  a  doubt  on."  — Shakespeare. 

In  the  previous  chapter  we  have  discussed  Belief  and 
Faith  and  now  come  to  consider  knowledge.  What  is  the 
distinction  to  be  drawn  between  these  three?  In  some 
minds  it  may  be  clear,  but  with  a  large  majority  of  people  a 
great  vagueness  exists.  So  lax  have  been  the  definitions 
that  what  one  would  define  as  belief  or  faith  another  would 
consider  knowledge.  One  writer  presents  a  series,  "accord- 
ing to  the  measure  of  assurance,  or  the  nature  and  cogency 
of  the  grounds,"  as  follows:  "knowledge,  belief,  faith, 
opinion,  assumption,  postulate,  and  finally,  whim,  prejudice, 
and  superstition."1  Whether  this  series  would  be  accepted 
by  any  one  or  not  depends  upon  the  definition  and  examples 
of  each  member  of  the  series,  and  on  these  probably  few 
would  agree.  These  different  factors  would  be  in  agree- 
ment in  that  all  would  be  held  for  true  by  those  experien- 
cing them,  but  there  would  be  a  difference  in  the  attitude  of 
mind  toward  them  or  in  the  nature  of  the  grounds  on  which 
they  were  held.  As  these  different  forms  shade  off  into  one 
another,  it  is  quite  impossible  to  draw  any  hard  and  fast  lines, 
and,  in  fact,  it  will  be  found  that  many  writers  so  confound 
knowledge  and  belief,  or  that  different  writers  use  these 

1  B.  P.  Bowne,  Theory  of  Thought  and  Knowledge,  p.  367. 

318 


KNOWLEDGE  319 

terms  so  constantly  for  the  same  experience,  that  it  will  be 
especially  difficult  to  separate  these  two.  In  the  case  of 
knowledge  the  conviction  has  more  certainty  and  there 
must  also  be  some  correlate  in  reality. 

The  demand  to  know  is  fundamental  to  our  natures,  but 
the  attempt  to  supply  this  demand  is  fraught  with  many 
difficulties.  In  our  present  study  we  shall  find  it  quite  im- 
possible to  separate  philosophy  from  our  psychological  dis- 
cussion. From  the  psychological  point  of  view,  the  ob- 
jective validity  of  an  act  of  knowledge  has  no  part  in  our 
discussion  at  all.  We,  as  psychologists,  are  confined  in  our 
investigations  to  the  phenomena  of  consciousness  as  such, 
and  an  hallucination  or  an  illusion  is  as  valid  a  psycholog- 
ical factor  for  investigation  as  the  most  certain  product 
of  cognition.  Whether  a  thing  is  externally  true  or  false 
is  not  our  concern  psychologically.  We  are  privileged  to 
examine  the  activities  of  mind  involved  in  an  act  of  knowl- 
edge, but  we  can  never  reach  a  completed  act  through  psy- 
chology; knowledge  must  always  involve  metaphysics  be- 
cause it  contains  an  assumption  of  reality  and  reaches  out 
and  grasps  the  transcendent.  Psychology  considers  all  cog- 
nitions of  whatever  kind  as  merely  subjective  phenomena, 
and  but  leads  up  to  the  philosophical  inquiry  concerning 
the  validity  of  such  cognitions.  For  psychology,  cognition 
is  simply  a  process  in  my  consciousness;  philosophy  is  curi- 
ous to  know  if  anything  really  exists  which  corresponds  to  this 
cognition. 

While  we  may  seem  to  have  defined  and  separated  the 
work  of  psychology  and  philosophy  in  respect  to  knowledge, 
we  shall  find  that  practically  this  division  is  not  so  easy,  for  in 
every  problem  the  two  fields  overlap.  In  our  psychological 
examination  it  is  difficult  to  reach  any  practical  religious 
conclusions  without  taking  into  account  some  philosophical 
implications  or  assumptions,  and  even  with  all  help  from 


32o  KNOWLEDGE 

every  source  our  task  will  not  be  easy.  Professor  James  well 
says:  "Now  the  relation  of  knowing  is  the  most  mysterious 
thing  in  the  world.  .  .  .  Knowledge  becomes  for  him  [the 
psychologist]  an  ultimate  relation  that  must  be  admitted, 
whether  it  be  explained  or  not,  just  like  difference  or  re- 
semblance, which  no  one  seeks  to  explain."1  This  is  true 
of  all  knowledge,  and  just  as  true  of  religious  as  of  other 
kinds. 

There  has  been  a  disposition  to  consider  religious  knowl- 
edge of  a  lower  order  than  some  other  kinds — scientific 
knowledge,  for  instance — if,  indeed,  we  could  claim  any 
real  knowledge  for  religious  experience  at  all.  Some  have 
not  regretted  this  supposed  condition,  for  it  left,  as  they 
thought,  more  room  for  the  exercise  of  faith.  Now,  both 
science  and  religion  assume  that  reality  can  be  known,  and 
one  should  have  no  more  doubt  of  the  one  than  of  the  other. 
The  only  absolutely  indisputable  knowledge  which  the  in- 
dividual can  possess,  is  that  reached  by  self-consciousness, 
in  the  here  and  now  existence  of  the  individual  experiencing 
it.  This  is  the  ultimate  of  ultimates.  But  are  we  to  con- 
fine ourselves  to  this?  This,  it  is  true,  is  the  pinnacle  of 
knowledge  and  the  place  from  which  we  must  start,  but  to 
accept  nothing  which  does  not  carry  with  it  the  same  cer- 
tainty would  sentence  us  to  the  most  irretrievable  solipsism. 

We  must  recognize  degrees  of  knowledge,  and  that  the 
knowing  experience  of  every  man's  consciousness  must  be 
our  standard,  rather  than  the  conviction  of  self-existence. 
Perhaps  we  may  say  that  not  a  large  number  of  our  con- 
victions can  lay  claim  to  knowledge,  but  that  most  of  them 
must  be  classed  under  the  rubric  of  beliefs.  The  difficulty 
in  the  past  has  been  that  in  religion  we  have  tried  to  depend 
on  pure  reason.  Whether  religion  is  the  object  or  not,  the 
use  of  pure  reason  can  do  no  better  than  to  land  us  in  solip- 

1 W.  James,  Principles  of  Psychology,  I,  p.  216. 


KNOWLEDGE  321 

sism;  the  negative  epistemological  attitude  toward  religion 
has  also  helped  in  this  direction.  Three  things  we  must 
recognize  if  we  are  to  obtain  a  correct  viewpoint  of 
knowledge:  the  cognitive  process  uses  the  whole  mind,  and 
a  description  and  explanation  of  cognition  lays  tribute 
to  no  less  than  the  whole  of  psychology;  we  must  take  the 
positive  attitude  and  doubt  nothing  for  which  we  have  not  a 
reason;  knowledge  is  knowledge  regardless  of  the  object 
known. 

The  epistemological  problems  in  religion  are  of  consider- 
able importance,  for  we  must  depend  on  epistemology  to 
guard  us  against  incorrect  conclusions  on  the  one  hand,  and 
scepticism  on  the  other.  The  nature  and  value  of  the  evi- 
dence must  be  the  problem  of  psychology  and  philosophy 
in  our  examination  of  religious  cognition.  To  discuss  the 
matter  in  all  its  aspects  we  should  concern  ourselves  with 
"the  nature  and  limits  of  religious  knowledge,  the  extent 
and  validity  of  the  grounds  on  which  religious  faith  or  be- 
lief reposes,  and  the  origin  and  trustworthiness  of  those 
standards  of  truth  of  fact  and  of  conception  which  influence 
so  powerfully  the  religious  experience."1  Can  a  man  really 
attain  a  cognition  of  God  ?  The  only  way  in  which  he  could 
have  an  indubitable  knowledge  of  Him  would  be  by  identify- 
ing God  with  himself,  but  he  may  have  a  knowledge  of  God 
as  sure  as  other  forms  of  knowledge,  with  the  exception,  of 
course,  of  that  of  his  present  existence.  The  nature  of  the 
proof  of  this  knowledge  we  will  take  up  later.  Can  my  indi- 
vidual religious  experience  be  justified  as  knowledge,  having 
a  correlate  in  reality  and  being  of  worth  ?  The  answer  to  this 
question  must  also  be  deferred  until  we  consider  more  fully 
the  nature  of  evidence.  The  mere  statement  of  these  and 
similar  questions,  however,  shows  how  dependent  is  religion 
upon  epistemological  assumptions  and  explanations. 

1  G.  T.  Ladd,  The  Philosophy  0}  Religion,  I,  p.  23. 


322  KNOWLEDGE 

We  must  not  forget  that  not  only  is  religious  knowledge 
the  same  as  other  kinds,  but  that  religion  grows  in  essentially 
the  same  way  as  all  other  kinds  of  human  knowledge.  In 
primitive  times  "  the  germs  of  knowledge  are  given  in  obscure 
and  unintelligible  forms  of  feeling,  in  the  half-blind  play  of 
fantasy  and  imagination,  and  in  the  doing  of  deeds  whose 
motives  are  not  recognized  and  whose  import  is  by  no  means 
clearly  conceived.  This  is  the  stage  in  the  evolution  of  re- 
ligious knowledge  where  mythology  plays  so  important 
and  controlling  a  part."1  This  stage  of  human  develop- 
ment, in  any  sphere,  is  always  slow,  and  the  growth  of  knowl- 
edge is  not  rapid;  but  the  important  part  to  be  noted  is  that 
in  the  history  of  the  race  knowledge  is  a  development,  and  the 
same  thing  may  be  predicated  regarding  the  history  of  the 
individual.  In  its  most  simple  form,  Christianity  makes  a 
demand  upon  us  which  amounts  to  a  knowledge  of  the 
world's  fundamentals.  To  respond  to  this,  a  lukewarm 
faith  will  not  answer,  but  an  indisputable  and  unshakeable 
conviction  alone  fulfils  the  demand.  Can  we  have  it? 
Is  it  not  asking  too  much  of  epistemology  ?  Is  it  reason- 
able? 

It  has  already  been  stated  that  the  process  of  knowledge, 
for  knowledge  is  a  process  rather  than  mere  states  of  con- 
sciousness, makes  use  of  the  whole  mind.  Knowledge  is 
usually  considered  an  intellectual  process  (and  hence  the 
position  of  this  chapter);  but  while  it  is  that,  it  is  not  that 
only.  It  is  neither  intellect  nor  feeling  nor  will,  but  all  com- 
bined; it  is  an  affair  of  all  the  mental  processes.  In  addition 
to  this,  cognition  implicates  the  transcendent,  for  the  facts 
of  consciousness  are  not  themselves  intelligible  without  the 
assumption  of  extra-mental  reality  ofi  which  consciousness 
depends.  In  view  of  these  facts,  it  may  be  profitable  for  us 
to  endeavor  to  designate  the  part  taken  in  cognition  by  the 

1  G.  T.  Ladd,  The  Philosophy  oj  Religion,  I,  p.  427. 


KNOWLEDGE  323 

intellect,  feelings,  and  will,  so  far  as  we  are  able  to  separate 
them. 

In  the  reaction  against  the  position  that  knowledge  was  a 
purely  intellectual  process,  there  has  been  a  tendency  to 
minimize  the  role  of  the  intellect.  Feeling  has  been  cor- 
respondingly over-emphasized,  and  hence  an  ill-balanced 
psychology  of  knowledge,  different  but  not  much  superior 
to  the  former  one-sided  view,  has  sprung  up.  It  is  well  to 
note  at  the  beginning  of  our  analysis  or  criticism  that  we  are 
limited  in  our  work  by  the  faculty  we  are  endeavoring  to 
analyze  or  criticize.  There  is  no  superhuman  knowledge, 
no  unconscious  knowledge,  no  knowledge  other  than  just 
what  all  men  have  by  which  we  can  measure  or  criticize  our 
knowledge,  and  with  this  and  this  only  we  must  go  for- 
ward. 

We  must  both  believe  and  think  in  order  to  know;  think- 
ing and  cognition  are  inseparable.  It  is  the  function  of  think- 
ing to  lead  us  up  to  a  judgment  based  on  recognized  grounds. 
A  judgment  is  a  sine  qua  non  of  all  knowledge,  although  the 
grounds  of  the  judgment  come  from  all  sources;  when  think- 
ing brings  us  to  this  judgment,  then  we  have  cognition.  The 
grounds  upon  which  so-called  science  reposes,  and  the  logiqal 
processes  leading  up  from  these  grounds  to  its  conclusions, 
are  by  some  supposed  to  be  alone  worthy  to  be  called  cog- 
nition. Any  statement  of  this  kind  must  define  cognition  in 
such  a  narrow  way  as  to  include  this  alone,  and  posit  a  stan- 
dard for  grounds  which  would  eliminate  knowledge  entirely 
from  some  lives,  if  not  entirely  from  the  lives  of  all  men,  if 
carried  to  its  logical  conclusions.  Whether  the  knowledge 
be  that  of  science  or  of  religion  it  is  the  same  thing.  Knowl- 
edge is  not  of  different  kinds,  but  the  judgment  of  sufficient 
reason  is  founded  on  different  grounds.  Nor  do  we  gain 
much  by  calling  one  experience  knowledge,  another  belief, 
and  another  faith;  for  none  of  these,  with  the  exception  al- 


324  KNOWLEDGE 

ready  noted  of  the  present  existence  of  the  thinker,  can  claim 
any  more  than  a  higher  or  lower  degree  of  probability  re- 
garding the  real  existence  of  their  objects.  The  knowledge 
of  one  man  is  not  so  rational  nor  so  certain  as  the  belief  or 
faith  of  another. 

Much  of  the  growth  of  the  particular  sciences  and  of  re- 
ligious faith  has  consisted  in  finding  out  that  not  a  little  of 
that  which  was  thought  to  be  assuredly  known  was  not  even 
worthy  of  belief,  and  that  many  of  the  insights  of  faith  have 
been  anticipations  of  future  assured  knowledge.  This  does 
not  mean  that  we  can  place  no  reliance  upon  knowledge, 
and  that  we  are  floundering  around  in  a  sea  of  uncertainty, 
but  that  we  must  put  more  rather  than  less  confidence  in  the 
reason,  for  knowledge  implies  that  there  exist  certain  uni- 
versal standards  of  a  rational  order,  upon  which  we  can  and 
must  rely.  In  our  endeavor  to  know  we  must  constantly 
judge  of  the  meaning  of  things,  i.  e.,  we  must  interpret,  and 
no  knowledge  can  exist  without  this  interpretation,  whether  it 
be  of  things,  or  of  selves,  or  of  God;  and  the  more  we  are 
able  to  interpret  the  more  knowledge  we  really  have.  Of 
course,  we  can  never  interpret  fully,  for  in  those  things  which 
we  think  we  know  best  there  is  always  a  suggestion  of  more 
beyond  and  below  which  we  do  not  know.  But  in  this  inter- 
pretation the  intellect  is  used,  in  addition  to  the  judgment 
of  the  meaning,  in  the  comprehension  of  the  relation  of  this 
object  to  other  things,  for  a  unity  of  all  knowledge  is  implied, 
and  unless  we  can  bring  an  object  into  this  unity  it  cannot 
be  known;  and  unless  the  self  can  be  brought  into  this  unity 
it  cannot  know  things. 

Solipsism  and  agnosticism  may  be  acceptable  in  satisfying 
our  intellectual  demands  for  an  account  of  the  genesis  and 
development  of  other  experiences,  but  both  or  either  are 
utterly  insufficient  to  satisfy  the  demands  in  the  ethical  or 
religious  sphere.     It  is  in  these  interpretations  and  relating 


KNOWLEDGE  325 

judgments  that  the  intellect  is  of  especial  value  in  religion 
and  morals,  and  in  its  criticism  which  keeps  religion  from 
errors.  Reason  must  try  the  beliefs,  it  must  see  that  they 
have  rational,  or  at  least  not  irrational,  grounds.  It  must 
recognize  the  validity  of  these  grounds,  it  must  systematize. 
Knowledge  must  be  both  rationalized  and  systematized  in 
order  to  be  called  by  that  name;  it  is  self-evident  in  the  nature 
of  reason,  except  it  be  immediately  given  in  experience, 
when  it  is  not  irrational  nor  free  from  the  intellectual  ele- 
ment. We  are  not  depending  on  argument  to-day  for  the 
basis  of  our  religious  knowledge;  the  historic  arguments  for 
the  being  of  God  have  been  relegated  to  the  philosophical 
museums,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  some  of  them  possess 
value.  We  are  depending  now  on  the  mind  as  a  whole 
rather  than  upon  a  fraction — the  intellect — for  our  grounds 
of  faith,  or  belief,  or  knowledge. 

As  a  factor  in  knowledge  the  feelings  have  lately  come  into 
prominence.  There  has  been  much  in  the  past  to  justify 
the  suspicion  of  appeals  to  feeling,  for  the  appeals  to  feeling 
have  usually  hidden  irrationality.  The  feeling  to  which 
we  appeal  to-day  is  that  which  is  in  harmony  with  reason. 
No  longer  do  we  make  the  claim  that  ignorance  and  lack  of 
reason  are  the  mother  of  devotion;  no  longer  do  we  endeavor 
to  "remove  knowledge  to  make  room  for  faith";  now  we 
go  to  the  other  extreme  and  define  knowledge  and  belief  and 
faith  in  terms  of  emotion  only,  as,  e.  g.,  belief  is  a  "sort  of 
feeling  more  allied  to  the  emotions  than  to  anything  else," 
and  belief  is  "the  'emotion'  of  conviction."  True  it  is 
that  a  distinctive  characteristic  is  found  in  feeling.  When 
we  say  "  I  feel  sure,"  what  do  we  mean  but  "  I  know  "  ?  This 
feeling  sure  is  fundamental,  but  is,  let  us  again  remind  our- 
selves, not  irrational,  and  as  such  is  symptomatic  of  knowl- 
edge. 

Even  apart  from  this  there  is  no  such  thing  as  a  perfectly 


326  KNOWLEDGE 

cold  belief  in  which  no  feeling  enters,  but  in  every  finished 
act  of  knowledge  feelings  of  various  kinds  act  indirectly  by 
modifying  the  processes  of  ideation  themselves;  they  also 
accompany  the  ideational  and  conative  processes.  Not  only 
are  they  a  part  of  every  act  of  knowledge,  but  they  carry 
their  credentials  with  them,  and  when  emotion  accompanies 
any  conception  it  is  thereby  strongly  affirmed.  Feeling 
may  at  times  be  more  reliable  than  thought,  and  some  truths 
may  be  reached  most  readily  by  this  means. 

Beside  the  feeling  of  certainty  there  is  another  character- 
istic feeling  of  cognition;  this  is  the  reality  feeling.  I  am 
not  sure  that  I  have  this  properly  classed  as  a  feeling,  for  it 
has  other  elements  in  it  and  is  called  by  others  "Belief  in 
reality"  or  "Metaphysical  belief,"  but  if  belief  has  an  emo- 
tional definition,  we  are  still  correct  in  this  classification.  It 
seems,  however,  that  the  reality  experience  comes  as  a  matter 
of  feeling  rather  than  of  intellection,  and  is  of  such  importance 
that  we  cannot  experience  knowledge  without  it.  The  ex- 
planation of  this  belief  or  feeling  must  be  left  to  philosophy 
rather  than  to  psychology,  together  with  the  many  other  prob- 
lems which  arise  from  and  with  it. 

Logical  feelings  are  regulative.  Not  only  do  these  feel- 
ings accompany  the  logical  processes,  but  they  regulate  and 
influence  them.  Our  feelings  notify  us  of  the  correctness  or 
fallacy  of  the  logical  processes.  Often  we  feel  the  grating 
of  the  fallacy  before  we  are  able  to  point  it  out,  or  we  recog- 
nize with  some  degree  of  pleasure  the  correct  logical  conclu- 
sion. We  feel  logical  principles,  and  judgment  in  this  as 
well  as  in  other  cases  may  be  but  an  expression  of  feeling. 
The  roots  of  our  belief  may  lie  in  the  sub-logical  realm  of 
emotion  and  interest,  and  our  conviction  will  vary  as  the 
tides  of  feeling  rise  and  fall. 

When  a  belief  is  thus  sustained  by  a  feeling  it  will  decline 
with  a  lapse  of  feeling.     The  cooling  of  emotional  fervor 


KNOWLEDGE  327 

causes  the  occasional  lapses  seen  in  religious  belief.  The 
emotional  stimulus  being  lacking,  the  imagination  fails  to 
rise  to  the  needed  point  of  vividness  and  the  mind  loses  its 
hold  on  reality.  The  certitude  in  religious  affairs  is  desig- 
nated as  follows:  "The  reason  of  the  belief  is  undoubtedly 
the  bodily  commotion  which  the  exciting  idea  sets  up.  '  Noth- 
ing which  I  can  feel  like  that  can  be  false.'  All  our  religious 
and  supernatural  beliefs  are  of  this  order.  The  surest 
warrant  for  immortality  is  the  yearning  of  our  bowels  for 
our  dear  ones :  for  God,  the  sinking  sense  it  gives  us  to  imag- 
ine no  such  Providence  or  help."1  Some  would  go  still 
further  in  making  feeling  a  direct  source  of  external  knowledge, 
especially  in  religion.2  The  pendulum  may  have  swung  too 
far,  but  we  do  know  that  moral,  religious,  and  aesthetic 
judgments  rest  more  on  feeling  than  on  intellection. 

Some  of  the  mystics,  however,  hold  the  more  extreme  view. 
Inge  designated  the  value  and  limits  of  "the  inner  light"  as 
follows:  "The  inner  light  can  only  testify  to  spiritual  truths. 
It  always  speaks  in  the  present  tense;  it  cannot  guarantee 
any  historical  event,  past  or  future.  It  cannot  guarantee 
either  the  Gospel  history  or  a  future  judgment.  It  can  tell 
us  that  Christ  is  risen,  and  that  He  is  alive  for  evermore, 
but  not  that  He  rose  again  the  third  day.  It  can  tell  us  that 
the  gate  of  everlasting  life  is  open,  but  not  that  the  dead  shall 
be  raised  incorruptible.  We  have  other  faculties  for  in- 
vestigating the  evidence  for  past  events;  the  inner  light  can- 
not certify  them  immediately,  though  it  can  give  a  powerful 
support  to  the  external  evidence."  We  should,  however, 
quote  further  so  that  this  writer  should  not  be  misunderstood. 
"Now  the  study  of  primitive  religions  does  seem  to  me  to 
prove  the  danger  of  resting  religion  and  morality  on  unreason- 

1  W.  James,  Principles  of  Psychology,  II,  p.  308. 
3  E.  D.  Starbuck,  "The  Feelings  and  their  Place  in  Religion,"  Ameri- 
can Journal  of  Religious  Psychology  and  Education,  I,  pp.  168-186. 


328  KNOWLEDGE 

ing  obedience  to  a  supposed  revelation;  but  that  is  not  my 
position.  ...  A  theology  based  on  mere  feeling  is  (as  Hegel 
said)  as  much  contrary  to  revealed  religion  as  to  rational 
knowledge.  The  fact  that  God  is  present  to  our  feeling  is  no 
proof  that  He  exists;  our  feelings  include  imaginations  which 
have  no  reality  corresponding  to  them.  No,  it  is  not  feel- 
ing, but  the  heart  or  reason  (whichever  term  we  prefer), 
which  speaks  with  authority.  By  the  heart  or  reason  I 
mean  the  whole  personality  acting  in  concord,  an  abiding 
mood  of  thinking,  willing,  and  feeling."  l 

There  are  some  whose  temperament  is  such  that  their  only 
source  of  religious  knowledge,  i.  e.,  only  source  of  indubi- 
table conviction,  is  the  feelings,  and  with  all  of  us  this  must 
be  true  to  a  greater  or  less  degree.  On  account  of  the 
comprehensiveness  of  the  states  of  religion  it  alters  itself  with 
the  affective  life,  as  well  as  on  account  of  the  deeper  experi- 
ences being  inexpressible  in  words;  the  subconscious  ele- 
ments, which  by  some  are  included  in  the  affective  class, 
and  which  form  an  important  if  not  easily  defined  factor, 
also  ally  religous  knowledge  to  the  feeling  element.  Re- 
ligious feeling  should  never  be  an  end  as  some  fanatics 
have  made  it  in  the  past,  but  as  with  some  of  the  primary 
religious  feelings  already  mentioned,  it  should  furnish  a 
form  of  criterion  which  must  be  satisfied  if  we  are  to  have 
religious  knowledge.  We  have  feeling  at  the  two  extremes  of 
knowledge;  on  the  one  hand,  a  certain  amount  of  emotional 
excitement  is  unfavorable  to  knowledge,  and  on  the  other 
hand,  that  highest  form' of  knowledge,  self-consciousness, 
is  dependent  upon  feeling.  Feeling  is  valuable;  there  can 
be  no  knowledge  without  it;  but  feeling  in  itself  is  not 
enough.  Feeling  and  intellect  blend  in  cognition.  Things 
are  known  to  be  what  they  are  because  they  are  both  felt 
and  judged  to  be  so. 

1  W.  R.  Inge,  Christian  Mysticism,  pp.  326  and  330  /. 


KNOWLEDGE  329 

But  we  must  go  a  step  further.  Religion  is  a  life,  and 
neither  an  intellectual  nor  emotional  system.  If  this  is  so, 
there  must  be  an  element  of  will  in  religious  knowledge — in 
fact  in  all  knowledge.  When  we  know  a  thing  we  are  ready 
to  act.  The  practical  life  is  at  once  a  source  of  belief  and 
the  test  of  its  validity.  We  find  the  best  grounds  for  the 
grand  universal  beliefs  in  their  very  universality  and  necessity. 
The  things  which  have  an  intimate  and  continuous  connec- 
tion with  my  life  are  the  things  of  whose  reality  I  have  an 
indubitable  conviction — a  knowledge.  The  fact  that  man 
is  will  as  well  as  intellect  and  feeling,  makes  knowledge  what 
it  is.  Will,  rather  than  the  understanding,  declares  the  case 
closed,  and  it  is  the  practical  necessity  of  doing  something 
that  compels  the  conclusion.  At  bottom,  knowledge  or  a 
conviction,  means  the  willingness  to  proceed  to  act  accord- 
ing to  the  conclusion.  It  is  this  practical,  living,  compre- 
hensive view  of  religious  knowledge  which  saves  it  from  the 
excessive  coolness  of  a  merely  logical  or  strictly  scientific 
view  on  the  one  side,  or  the  excessive  heat  of  a  purely  emo- 
tional view  on  the  other,  and  causes  these  two  to  blend  in 
practical  application  to  real  life. 

The  grounds  for  religious  knowledge  are  found  neither 
in  an  institution  nor  a  book,  but  in  a  life  or  experience. 
"One  thing  I  know,  that  whereas  I  was  blind  now  I  see" 
comes  to  us  from  the  depths  of  practical  life  and  is  indubitable. 
The  experience  of  coming  into  opposition  with  other  wills, 
and  of  coming  in  contact  with  things  which  do  not  conform 
to  my  will  in  a  practical  way,  gives  me  to  a  great  extent  my 
knowledge  of  reality.  Action,  experience,  is  the  key  to  self- 
knowledge  as  well  as  to  the  knowledge  of  other  selves  and 
things.  Voluntary  attention,  that  key  to  all  knowledge, 
implicates  the  will  whenever  it  is  exercised.  By  our  will- 
ing and  experiencing  reactions  from  will  we  procure  our 
knowledge  to  a  great  extent  of  things  and  other  selves. 


330  KNOWLEDGE 

Pragmatic  we  are,  and  pragmatic  we  must  be  in  order  to 
know. 

We  have  gone  a  long  way  around  to  endeavor  to  answer 
one  question,  viz.,  Can  we  have  religious  knowledge?  The 
answer  is  already  apparent.  Only  those  whose  idea  of 
knowledge  is  that  it  is  an  affair  of  the  intellect  alone  could 
deny  it,  and  in  taking  this  position  they  do  not  save  scientific 
knowledge  for  themselves  as  they  attempt  to  do,  but  debar 
all  knowledge.  We  may  have  more  than  opinions  concern- 
ing religions,  we  may  have  knowledge  as  surely  as  we  can 
of  any  other  subject;  and  while  not  all  reports  of  religion  are 
to  be  trusted  without  examination,  any  more  than  all  sup- 
posed scientific  reports  are  to  be  received  in  this  way,  yet 
there  are  some  which  readily  find  acceptance  because  they 
stand  the  practical  test,  and  this  is  the  test  which  science  tries 
to  use.  Prof.  Ladd  well  says,  "Cognition  cannot  be  con- 
sidered apart  from  life.  Whatever  kind  of  value  knowledge 
has,  and  whatever  degree  is  attainable  in  any  particular 
kind  of  value,  knowledge  is  also  always  means  to  an  end 
that  lies  above  itself."1 

Taking  this  teleological  view  of  knowledge,  and  recogniz- 
ing that  it  looks  up  to  the  ideal  of  life  which  has  supreme 
worth,  aesthetical,  ethical  and  religious  elements  cannot  be 
excluded  from  a  full  treatment  of  knowledge.  Even  Kant, 
who  marshalled  religious  and  ethical  knowledge  out  of  the 
front  door  with  such  a  forbidding  manner,  received  them  in 
the  back  door  under  the  name  of  faith,  and  guaranteed  them 
with  all  the  certainty  of  rational  conviction.  Those  things 
which  we  know  with  the  greatest  certainty  are  not  those 
which  we  can  demonstrate  by  a  mathematical  formula  or 
by  a  logical  syllogism,  because  they  are  a  product  of  the 
whole  mind  and  not  simply  of  the  intellect.  Religious  ele- 
ments come  under  this  class.     If  other  forms  of  knowledge 

1  G.  T.  Ladd,  Philosophy  oj  Knowledge,  p.  232. 


KNOWLEDGE  331 

could  be  obtained  without  the  use  of  the  whole  mind  this 
would  not  be  true  of  religious  knowledge,  for  since  religion 
is  mentally  comprehensive,  so,  in  order  to  have  religious  cog- 
nition, the  whole  mind — the  life  of  man — must  be  used.1 

1  Anyone  familiar  with  Professor  Ladd's  works  will  recognize  the 
great  debt  I  am  under  to  them  for  material  in  this  chapter.  To  study 
the  problem  of  knowledge  Professor  Ladd's  works  must  be  consulted 
first,  last  and  all  the  time,  for  they  give  us  by  far  the  most  compre- 
hensive treatise  in  English,  if  not  in  any  tongue.  See  G.  T.  Ladd, 
Philosophy  of  Knowledge  (entire);  Theory  of  Reality,  chapters  XV-XX; 
Psychology,  Descriptive  and  Explanatory,  chapters  XX-XXII;  beside 
numerous  references  in  Philosophy  of  Religion,  I  and  II,  and  Philosophy 
of  Mind. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

IMAGINATION 

"Tell  me  where  is  fancy  bred, 
Or  in  the  heart  or  in  the  head? 
How  begot,  how  nourished?" 

— Shakespeare. 

Any  reference  to  the  use  of  the  imagination  in  religious 
experiences  is  usually  intended  to  imply  that  the  experience 
is  proportionally  degraded  or  unreliable,  according  to  the 
extent  to  which  the  imagination  is  employed.  When  one 
person  wishes  to  discredit  the  religious  statements  of  another, 
and  says,  "You  imagined  that,"  nothing  further  is  con- 
sidered necessary  for  condemnation.  On  the  contrary, 
the  imagination  is  one  of  the  most  valuable  mental  allies 
which  religion  has,  and  without  it  religion  would  not  only  be 
impoverished,  but  could  not  possibly  be  experienced  by 
man  as  we  now  know  him. 

In  saying  this  we  are  not  discrediting  religion  in  the  least. 
The  statement  might  just  as  well  be  made  of  science  as  of 
religion.  In  fact,  there  is  no  form  of  knowledge  possible 
without  the  aid  of  both  the  reproductive  and  the  creative 
imagination.  The  great  general,  the  successful  statesman, 
and  the  trustworthy  historian  are  powerless  without  the 
plenary  use  of  the  imagination,  and  contrary  to  general  be- 
lief no  other  forms  of  knowledge  make  more  severe  demands 
upon  it  than  modern  chemistry,  physics,  and  other  sciences. 
Listen  to  these  words  from  one  of  the  greatest  of  modern 
scientists:  "  Ask  your  imagination  if  it  will  accept  a  vibrating 

332 


IMAGINATION  333 

multiple  proportion — a  numerical  ratio  in  a  state  of  oscilla- 
tion? I  do  not  think  that  it  will.  You  cannot  crown  the 
edifice  with  this  abstraction.  The  scientific  imagination 
which  is  here  authoritative,  demands,  as  the  origin  and  cause 
of  a  series  of  ether  waves,  a  particle  of  vibrating  matter  quite 
as  definite,  though  it  may  be  excessively  minute,  as  that 
which  gives  origin  to  a  musical  sound." 1 

Not  only  is  it  true  that  modern  scientific  theories  like 
those  of  atoms,  molecules,  and  ions,  put  a  great  strain  on  the 
imagination,  but  the  possibility  of  their  continuing  to  be 
accepted  for  as  long  a  time  as  the  products  of  the  imagination 
in  religious  realms  will  be  is  very  small.  The  flights  of  the 
Psalmist's  imagination  are  still  current  in  religious  thinking 
and  experience,  but  where  is  the  science  of  his  time?  It 
might  almost  be  stated,  judging  from  the  past,  that  the  relia- 
bility of  the  religious  and  scientific  imagination  is  in  the  pro- 
portion of  millenniums  to  decades. 

In  science,  religion,  or  art  the  same  imagination  is  em- 
ployed; it  is  governed  by  the  same  laws,  aided  by  the  same 
reason,  and  inspired  by  similar  emotions.  There  are  some 
minor  differences.  Science  endeavors  to  begin  with  the  use 
of  the  perceptive  faculties,  tries  to  start  with  sensuous  fact. 
Both  religion  and  art  separate  the  imagination  from  the 
matter-of-fact  point  of  view,  and  claim  that  the  spiritual  eye 
distinguishes  that  which  is  of  real  value.  Percepts  simply 
inspire  the  soul  to  penetrate  to  the  real  facts  which  are  not 
experienced  by  the  senses,  to  which  science  trusts. 

"  The  distinction  between  poetry  and  science,  or  myth  and 
science,  or  religious  myth  and  religious  truth,  is  not,  indeed, 
the  same  as  the  distinction  between  the  work  of  pure  fancy 
and  the  work  of  pure  intellect."  Purity  ceased  when  faculty 
psychology  declined.     "Poetry  and  myth  both  have  their 

1  J.  Tyndall,  Fragments  of  Science,  p.  423.  The  italics  are  mine. 
See  his  whole  address  on  the  Scientific  Use  of  the  Imagination. 


334  IMAGINATION 

place  in  the  development  of  the  intellectual  as  well  as  of  the 
artistic  life  of  man."  In  the  last  analysis  the  difference  be- 
tween the  imaginative  and  the  scientifically  intellectual  is  a 
shifting  one,  and  depends  on  the  way  they  fit  into  the 
totality  of  human  experience.1 

The  product  of  the  imagination  is  found  in  two  forms,  and 
probably  the  confusion  of  these  has  brought  whatever  dis- 
paragement is  connected  with  it.  Psychologically  there  is 
little  or  no  difference  between  the  two,  but  the  value  of  the 
results  causes  us  to  make  a  division,  although  they  are  both 
prominent  in  religion.  The  less  reasonable  and  more  ethereal 
form,  usually  called  "  fancy,"  must  be  distinguished  from  the 
logical  and  solid  work  of  the  imagination,  and  it  is  with  the 
latter  that  we  are  more  particularly  concerned  in  our  present 
study.  Ruskin  draws  some  sharp  distinctions  between  fancy 
and  the  imagination  peculiarly  adapted,  as  we  would  sup- 
pose, to  art,  but  not  foreign  to  use  in  religion.  He  says, 
"Fancy  has  to  do  with  the  outsides  of  things,  and  is  content 
therewith.  She  can  never  feel,  but  is  one  of  the  most  purely 
and  simply  intellectual  of  the  faculties.  She  cannot  be  made 
serious:  no  edge-tool,  but  she  will  play  with:  whereas  the  imag- 
ination is  in  all  things  the  reverse.  She  cannot  but  be  serious; 
she  sees  too  far,  too  darkly,  too  solemnly,  too  earnestly,  ever 
to  smile.  .  .  .  There  is  reciprocal  action  between  the  inten- 
sity of  moral  feeling  and  the  power  of  imagination.  Hence 
the  powers  of  the  imagination  may  always  be  tested  by  accom- 
panying tenderness  of  emotion.  .  .  .  Imagination  is  quiet, 
fancy  restless;  fancy  details,  imagination  suggests.  ...  All 
egotism  is  destructive  of  imagination  whose  play  and  power 
depend  altogether  on  our  being  able  to  forget  ourselves.  .  .  . 
Imagination  has  no  respect  for  sayings  or  opinions:  it  is 
independent."  2 

1  G.  T.  Ladd,  The  Philosophy  o]  Religion,  I,  p.  318. 

2  J.  Ruskin,  Modern  Painters,  II,  chap.  III. 


IMAGINATION  335 

Connected  and  usually  associated  with  the  intellect  on  one 
side,  the  closest  relative  of  imagination  is  the  memory,  from 
which  it  is  not  clearly  distinguished  by  some  writers.  The 
principal  difference  between  the  two  is  that  the  objects  of 
memory  are  attached  to  certain  times  and  places  and  must 
always  be  considered  in  relation  to  these,  while  imagination 
is  absolved  from  such  limitations.  This  allows  the  imagina- 
tion to  create  a  very  wide  variety  of  objects  of  which  it  has 
had  no  experience,  and  yet  which  are  not  antithetical  to  ex- 
perience. For  after  all  it  is  the  self  which  imagines,  and  it 
does  not,  cannot,  imagine  that  which  is  at  variance  with  the 
other  aspects  of  self,  the  intellect,  emotions,  and  will.  So  the 
product  of  imagination  is  particularly  valuable  and  has  a 
basis  in  reality,  in  the  explanation  it  presents  for  real  ex- 
periences, while  not  having  been  really  experienced  itself. 

Perhaps  in  no  other  conscious  factor  do  we  so  clearly  see 
the  working  of  the  subconscious  as  in  the  creative  imagina- 
tion. Judgment  is  subconsciously  given  to  the  product,  and 
the  result  is  something  which  is  new  and  yet  which  is  not 
antagonistic  to  the  reason.  As  is  so  well  illustrated  in  genius, 
although  the  product  comes  to  consciousness  ready  made 
and  without  conscious  effort  having  been  expended,  it  shows 
the  effect  of  mental  work  and  poise.  Sometimes  the  person 
may  sit  by  almost  as  a  spectator  and  wonder  what  is  coming 
next,  so  completely  does  the  subconsciousness  rather  than  the 
consciousness  seem  to  produce  the  images. 

Many  of  the  mystics  exalt  imagination,  and  make  it  the 
chief  religious  factor.  Wordsworth,  for  example,  says  that  it 
is  at  once  "more  than  reason"  and  "reason  in  her  most  ex- 
alted mood."  St.  Teresa,  on  the  contrary,  does  not  give  the 
supreme  credit  to  the  imagination.  She  says,  in  a  passage 
already  quoted,  "  Like  imperfect  sleep  which  instead  of  giv- 
ing more  strength  to  the  head,  doth  but  leave  it  the  more 
exhausted,   the  result  of  mere  operations  of  the  imagina- 


336  IMAGINATION 

tion  is  but  to  weaken  the  soul.  Instead  of  nourishment 
and  energy  she  reaps  only  lassitude  and  disgust:  whereas 
a  genuinely  heavenly  vision  yields  to  her  a  harvest  of  in- 
effable spiritual  riches,  and  an  admirable  reward  of  bodily 
strength." 

A  faculty  so  varied  in  its  use  would  naturally  be  detrimental 
at  times  as  well  as  useful.  Fanatics  are  usually  very  imag- 
inative and  have,  in  connection  with  this,  emotions  which 
are  allied  to  hope  and  presumption  more  closely  than  to  fear 
and  despondency.  They  therefore  think  that  they  are  espe- 
cially favored  of  God,  and  that  the  vagaries  of  their  imagi- 
nations are  the  truths  of  the  Almighty.  While  imagination 
cannot  be  divorced  from  emotion,  it  must  be  especially  allied 
with  reason  to  be  of  the  most  eminent  service  to  religion. 
Jonathan  Edwards  seems  to  recognize  the  injury  which 
might  come  from  a  passionate  and  unreasonable  imagina- 
tion. He  says,  "The  imagination  seems  to  be  that  wherein 
are  formed  all  those  delusions  of  Satan  which  carry  away 
those  who  are  under  the  influence  of  false  religion  and 
counterfeit  graces  and  affections.  There  is  the  devil's 
grand  lurking  place,  the  very  nest  of  unholy  and  delusive 
spirits." 

We  have  some  splendid  examples  of  this  in  the  "Great 
Awakening"  with  which  Edwards  was  connected,  and  in 
many  revivals  since  that  time.  In  1742,  after  Whitefield's 
visit  to  Scotland,  where  he  held  revival  meetings  which  were 
attended  by  physical  phenomena  not  uncommon  to  the 
times,  a  discussion  arose  mainly  centering  around  the  imag- 
ination. The  defenders  of  Whitefield  and  of  the  revival 
preached  and  wrote  apologies.  They  said,  "We  cannot 
think  upon  anything  invisible  without  some  degree  of  imag- 
ination; the  images  of  spiritual  things  must  be  represented 
by  our  fancy;  we  can  have  no  thought  of  God  or  Christ  with- 
out some  degree  of  imagination,  and  imaginary  ideas  of 


IMAGINATION  337 

Christ,  as  man,  are  consistent  with  true  faith."  The  oppo- 
sition was  headed  by  Rev.  Ralph  Erskine  who  preached  on  the 
subject  and  finally  wrote  a  book  entitled,  "Faith  no  Fancy; 
or  a  Treatise  of  Mental  Images."  This  must  not  be  confused 
with  another  of  his  writings,  "Fancy  no  Faith,  a  Seasonable 
Admonition."  Erskine's  declaration  was  that  many  of  the 
then  current  delusions  concerning  the  religion  of  Christ  were 
produced  by  Satan  through  a  false  inspiration  of  the  imagi- 
nation. This  was  substantially  Edwards'  view,  but  the  latter 
also  taught  that  in  some  the  false  impressions  on  the  imagina- 
tion react  on  their  affections,  with  the  result  that  the  delusions 
of  the  imagination  are  raised  to  the  vividness  of  divine 
authoritative  truth.  Edwards  also  concurs  with  Erskine  as 
to  Satan's  agency  in  times  of  awakenings.1 

While  it  is  well  to  be  warned  concerning  a  contingent  evil, 
we  are  as  much  concerned  with  the  use  of  the  imagination 
and  its  value  to  religious  life  and  progress.  Connected  with 
the  intellect,  its  employment  is  not  only  valuable  but  neces- 
sary to  religion. 

"  Religion,  however,  stands  in  special  need  of  this  process  of 
separation  and  purification  for  the  work  which  it  calls  upon 
the  creative  imagination  to  perform;  and  the  chief  reasons 
for  this  need  are  the  following  two.  Its  primary  beliefs  are 
essentially  of  the  w-visible,  the  wow-sensible,  the  somehow 
super-human,  the  Self  that  is  other  than  my  self.  Moreover, 
the  practical  and  emotional  interests  to  which  the  work  of 
the  religious  imagination  is  committed  are  so  immediate  and 
pressing  as  the  more  easily  to  override  the  considerations 
upon  which  the  scientific  development  of  man  lays  such 
peculiar  emphasis.  .  .  .  The  religious  development  of  man- 
kind is  dependent  upon  the  harmonious  activity  of  imagi- 
nation and  intellect  in  providing  an  Object  [of  religious 
belief]  which  shall  both  accord  with  scientific  development, 
1  G.  W.  Hervey,  The  Imagination  in  Revivals. 


338  IMAGINATION 

and  shall  also  keep  pace  with  the  improvement  of  the  ethical 
and  aesthetical  feelings,  and  with  the  growing  practical  and 
social  needs  of  the  race."  * 

There  has  been  a  general  under-estimation  of  the  exalted 
work  which  the  creative  imagination  has  been  called  upon  to 
do.  Some,  however  have  recognized  it.  Bushnell  and 
Drummond  taught  that  imagination  was  the  sole  arbiter  of 
faith  because  religious  truths  could  only  be  set  forth  in  fig- 
ures of  speech;  figures  of  speech  make  great  demands  on  the 
imagination.  "Christ,"  said  Bushnell,  "is  God's  last  meta- 
phor!" Bushnell  goes  on  to  define  imagination  as  "the 
power  that  distinguishes  truth  in  their  images  and  seizes 
hold,  of  images  for  the  expression  of  truths."  A  person  de- 
void, to  any  extent,  of  imaginative  ability  cannot  appro- 
priate religion,  and  it  is  such  a  person  who  usually  makes 
such  a  bungle  of  reading  the  Old  Testament.  The  Old 
Testament  taken  literally  and  not  allowing  for  Hebrew 
figures  of  speech  is  filled  with  snares,  inconsistencies,  and 
untruths;  but  read,  as  it  was  written,  with  a  knowledge 
of  eastern  imagery,  it  conveys  grand  and  eternal  truths 
to  us. 

The  spheres  of  reason  and  imagination  are  different,  al- 
though they  may  be  complementary.  Questions  which  rea- 
son finds  contradictory  are  accepted  by  the  imagination,  be- 
cause the  latter  cannot  imagine  the  opposite.  We  cannot,  for 
example,  imagine  anything  else  than  that  God  should  be 
sovereign  and  that  man  should  be  free.  The  reason  and 
imagination  may  combine  in  other  doctrines.  It  is  impos- 
sible to  imagine  atheism,  for  neither  the  imagination  nor  rea- 
son are  satisfied  with  the  image.  Neither  can  we  imagine  the 
universe  without  a  purpose  or  end,  but  the  imagination  rests 
in  the  personality  of  God.  We  might  continue  to  show  that 
our  religious  knowledge  is  considerably  influenced  by  the 

1  G.  T.  Ladd,  Philosophy  oj  Religion,  I,  p.  3 19  /. 


IMAGINATION  339 

imagination.  The  apostle  says  that  we  walk  by  faith,  not  by 
sight;  here  faith  is  used  in  the  sense  of  imagination  not  of 
trust.  The  writer  of  the  Hebrews  defines  faith  in  the  lan- 
guage of  imagination  as  the  "  assurance  of  things  hoped  for, 
the  conviction  of  things  not  seen,"  and  the  whole  of  this 
eleventh  chapter  illustrates  this  definition  and  shows  how  we 
are  able  to  see  "Him  who  is  invisible."  1 

The  pictorial  representation  of  the  object  of  religious  faith 
has  always  had  a  wide  influence  in  Christianity,  and  its  form 
is  an  index  to  the  value  of  religion.  For  example,  the  picture 
of  the  Virgin  and  Holy  Child  has  had  a  potent  influence  for 
good  in  Roman  Catholic  Europe,  notwithstanding  the  fact 
that  there  has  been  associated  with  it  and  similar  works  of 
art  a  counter  and  degrading  influence.  But  it  is  the  work  of 
creating  the  ideas  of  invisible  and  spiritual  powers  which 
has  proven  to  be  the  great  task  of  the  imagination  in  connec- 
tion with  the  intellect.  Man  alone  is  able  to  do  this,  and  in 
primitive  races  the  confusion  of  the  elements  of  these  ideas 
has  made  it  difficult  at  times  to  distinguish  between  magic 
and  religion.  In  primitive  religions,  the  imagination  local- 
ized its  ideals  in  the  sticks  and  stones,  giving  imagined  attri- 
butes to  the  things  which  were  visible  and  tangible,  these 
attributes  coinciding  with  the  invisible  and  intangible  ex- 
periences of  self-consciousness.  Thus  we  have  what  is 
known  as  nature  worship.2 

In  the  highest  development  of  man's  religious  experience, 
imagination  creates  for  us  the  ideal  of  a  Divine  Being,  which, 
while  not  contrary  to  reason  or  experience,  is  not  confined  to 
the  totality  of  experience  or  visible  existence.  God  is  created 
in  demand  for  an  ideal,  and  also  to  explain  experience.  It  is 
in  the  matter  of  ideals  and  the  relation  of  ideals  to  conduct 

1  For  the  development  of  these  points  see  the  very  suggestive  book, 
E.  H.  Johnson,  The  Religious  Use  of  the  Imagination. 
3  G.  T.  Ladd,  Philosophy  oj  Religion,  I,  p.  368. 


34o  IMAGINATION 

that  imagination  stands  supreme.  Character  is  regulated  by 
ideals.  The  idea  which  we  hold  before  us  is  externalized  in 
conduct,  for  our  ideas  tend  always  to  express  themselves. 
With  the  ideal  before  us  imagination  becomes  strong  to 
overcome  evil  and  crystallize  the  good.  For  instance,  if  one 
imagines  Christ,  His  way  of  doing  things,  His  thoughts,  His 
words,  he  becomes  a  copy  of  Christ,  for  what  he  has  in  mind 
is  the  Christlike  life.  Thus  the  ideals  and  doctrines  which 
are  imagined  are  the  ones  which  live  in  our  lives;  the  unim- 
agined  ones  die.  These  ideals,  above  all  else,  are  both 
sources  and  stimuli  of  man's  religious  life  and  develop- 
ment. Whether  in  primitive  man  or  in  the  example  of  the 
highest  development  of  the  race  all  the  philosophical  con- 
ceptions are  dependent  on  the  imagination,  and  the  dif- 
ference between  the  two  is  not  in  the  imagination  but  in 
the  training  and  development  of  the  two  classes.  The 
product  of  the  imagination  must  be  tested  therefore  by 
the  experience  of  the  race  judged  from  a  scientific  stand- 
point. 

Johnson  concludes  his  treaties  with  the  following  words: 
"This  aim  has  been  to  show  that  the  imagination  has  al- 
ways been  sufficiently  at  the  service  of  religion  to  account  for 
the  persistence  among  Christians  of  certain  elevated  beliefs, 
but  not  sufficiently  to  provide  for  an  average  of  piety  and 
virtue  proportionate  to  the  elevation  of  those  beliefs.  As  to 
the  beliefs  the  significant  facts  are:  first,  that  in  each  in- 
stance these  characteristically  Christian  beliefs  strike  the 
imagination.  Secondly,  ideas  which  imagination  keeps  in 
full  view  enjoy  in  this  way  quite  exclusively  the  advantage, 
or  incur  the  disadvantage,  of  being  put  to  the  test  of  experi- 
ence. Thirdly,  having  been  so  tried  and  attested  by  all  the 
Christian  centuries,  these  salient,  imaginable,  and  charac- 
teristically Christian  ideas  are  for  substance  steadily  held  by 
the  church  with  all  the  depth  and  tenacity  of  conviction 


IMAGINATION  341 

which  experience  alone  can  afford.  .  .  .  The  conclusion  of 
this  whole  contention  is  that  the  essentials  of  Christian  truth 
are  always  apprehensible;  imagination  catches  them  and 
never  lets  them  go."  • 

1  E.  H.  Johnson,  The  Religious  Use  oj  the  Imagination,  pp.  217-220. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

INSPIRATION 

"O,  for  a  muse  of  fire,  that  would  ascend 
The  brightest  heaven  of  invention." 

—Shakespeare. 

In  all  stages  of  man's  religious  development  it  has  been 
believed  that  in  some  way  the  gods  have  made  themselves 
known  to  men,  have  revealed  their  wills,  and  have  influenced 
their  devotees.  The  followers  of  every  religion  believe  that 
somehow  their  tenets  are  a  distinct  revelation.  The  religion 
which  depends  on  any  scriptures,  considers  them  but  a  record 
of  revelations  which  have  been  vouchsafed  to  their  repre- 
sentatives, and  in  the  more  primitive  cults  revelations  con- 
tinually take  place  through  favored  individuals.  The  belief 
in  revelation,  which  is  thus  so  common  to  man,  is  born  of 
the  need  for  such  a  belief.  It  is  necessary  to  explain  certain 
religious  problems  and  to  furnish  certain  assumptions.  Re- 
ligion must  have  some  authority  and  this  must  come  through 
revelation.  Certain  events  cannot  be  explained  without  cer- 
tain causes  which  revelation  furnishes,  and  the  only  knowl- 
edge we  can  have  of  future  life,  here  and  hereafter,  comes 
through  revelation.  Without  some  such  beliefs  religion 
would  not  be  possible. 

If  the  Deity  reveals  Himself  to  man,  then  man  discovers 
God,  and  the  statement  of  the  fact  may  be  made  from  either 
standpoint  without  changing  the  real  meaning.  What  we 
know  theologically  as  God's  revealing  Himself,  we  may 
know  psychologically  as  man's  receiving  a  revelation,  for 

342 


INSPIRATION  343 

without  man's  receiving  there  can  be  no  revelation,  at  least 
none  of  which  we  know.  The  very  nature  of  religion  makes 
it  possible  for  the  Infinite  to  reveal  Himself  through  finite 
beings,  and  through  finite  beings  only.  The  co-operation  of 
man  is,  therefore,  required,  and  the  character  of  man,  singly 
or  in  groups,  conditions  the  character  of  the  revelation. 
Thus,  the  psychological  development  of  the  race  at  any  time, 
and  the  peculiar  historical  and  physical  conditions  with 
which  it  is  surrounded,  circumscribe  and  limit  the  revelation 
which  may  be  received  in  any  era. 

The  founders  of  religions,  however,  are  considered  special 
and  supreme  mediums  of  revelation,  and  the  message  which 
comes  through  them  is  not  always  looked  upon  as  condi- 
tioned by  the  times  in  which  they  lived  to  the  same  extent  as 
other  revelations.  Next  in  importance  to  the  revelation 
which  is  given  through  the  founders,  is  the  message  of  the 
teachers  of  religion,  the  prophets,  and  the  leaders  of  reform 
movements.  These  few  men  in  an  age  or  in  the  history  of 
a  religion  lead  the  others,  and  it  is  to  them  that  we  owe  the 
growth  of  religious  thought  and  conceptions.  In  accounting 
for  the  fact  we  find  the  doctrines  of  Inspiration  and  of  Reve- 
lation inseparably  bound  together.  The  concept  of  revela- 
tion is  undoubtedly  primary,  but  that  of  inspiration  is  a  nec- 
essary correlate.  "Inspiration  is  the  subjective  or  inward 
influence  upon  the  whole  mental  life,  which  makes  possible 
the  revelation."  * 

Among  primitive  people  demoniac  possession,  witchcraft, 
ecstasy,  epilepsy,  and  other  abnormal  phenomena  were  con- 
stantly associated  with  inspiration.  However  different  pos- 
session and  inspiration  may  be  theologically,  they  mean  much 
the  same  thing  when  viewed  from  a  psychological  stand- 
point. The  inspiration  of  the  early  Hebrew  prophets  con- 
forms rather  more  closely  to  our  idea  of  possession  than  to 

1  G.  T.  Ladd,  Philosophy  oj  Religion,  II,  p.  420. 


344 


INSPIRATION 


that  of  inspiration,  if  we  may  judge  from  the  accounts  which 
we  have  in  the  Old  Testament.  By  the  use  of  music,  danc- 
ing, and  other  exciting  means,  a  highly  contagious  ecstasy 
was  developed,  in  which  the  participants  prophesied.  The 
influence  of  the  nomadic,  prophesying  troops  which  tra- 
versed the  country  was  felt  by  those  who  came  in  contact 
with  them.  Such  was  the  experience  of  Saul  as  given  us  in 
I  Samuel  10:5  and  6,  and  of  Saul  and  his  messengers  in 
I  Samuel  19:23/.  While  this  ecstatic  state  was  gradually 
eliminated,  as  late  as  the  days  of  Elisha  music  was  needed 
to  assist  the  prophet.  II  Kings  9:11  and  Jeremiah  29 :  36, 
show  us  the  general  idea  of  the  connection  between  prophecy 
and  sacred  madness  or  ecstasy. 

Among  the  later  prophets  a  quiet  form  of  inspiration  pre- 
dominated. They  received  the  message  of  Jehovah  as  ordi- 
nary men  (see  Amos  3 :  7  and  8) ;  in  fact,  not  only  prophets 
but  poets,  statesmen,  warriors,  and  artisans  all  served  Yah- 
weh,  and  were  prepared  for  this  service  and  incited  to  this 
mission  by  the  inspiration  of  His  spirit.  *  Kaplan  divides  the 
prophetic  age  into  three  periods.  In  the  first  the  external 
means  were  used,  in  which  abnormal  and  highly  excited 
states  were  considered  a  manifestation  of  the  indwelling  of 
the  divine  spirit.  In  the  second  period  the  prophets  had 
advanced  intellectually  and  morally,  partaking  in  this  tran- 
sitory stage  of  the  characteristics  of  both  the  first  and 
third  stages.  With  Amos  and  after,  prophecy  reached  its 
highest  point,  and  with  a  characteristic  uniqueness  of  ge- 
nius presented  Jehovah  as  the  moral  ruler  of  the  whole 
world. 

The  prophets  themselves  did  a  great  service  in  the  religious 
development  of  Israel,  and  most  remarkable  were  the  results 
to  which  they  contributed.    The  contribution  was  the  test  of 

'J.  H.  Kaplan,  "Psychology  of  Prophecy,"  American  Journal  of 
Religious  Psychology  and  Education,  II,  p.  171  /. 


INSPIRATION  345 

prophetism.  "The  possession  of  a  single  true  thought  about 
Jehovah,  not  derived  from  current  religious  teaching,  but 
springing  up  in  the  soul  as  a  word  from  Jehovah,  is  enough 
to  constitute  a  prophet."  1  While  every  prophet  considered 
himself  the  mouthpiece  of  Yahweh,  and  spoke  as  with 
authority  from  Him,  endeavoring  to  sink  his  own  personality 
out  of  sight,  yet  every  one  had  his  personal  peculiarities,  and 
these  were  used  and  emphasized  rather  than  suppressed. 

The  drawing  of  lots,  the  experiencing  of  dreams,  the  seeing 
of  visions,  and  hearing  of  auditions,  were  utilized;  as  a  rule, 
however,  the  great  prophets  did  not  depend  much  on  these, 
but  they  found  that  the  message  came  through  the  more 
ordinary  processes  of  the  mind.  The  message  which  the 
prophet  received  in  the  more  ordinary  way  might  be  best  or 
only  expressed  through  parables  and  symbols,  but  this  is  not 
to  be  confused  with  the  method  of  reception.  As  has  been 
said,  the  later  and  greater  prophets  received  their  messages 
in  ways  more  in  harmony  with  everyday  experience  rather 
than  through  ecstasy  and  vision,  yet  these  could  hardly  be 
called  normal. 

There  is  every  indication  that  the  message  is  the  result  of 
subconscious  processes.  There  is  something  sharp  and 
sudden  about  its  appearance,  as  though  it  had  burst  out  as 
a  new  discovery,  rather  than  as  a  result  of  conscious  reason- 
ing: as  though  it  were  provided  by  some  external  agency: 
as  though  it  were  "breathed  into"  the  prophet  that  he  might 
breathe  it  out  to  the  people.  Of  course,  the  prophet  must 
have  spiritual  sympathy  and  appreciation  of  the  worth  of 
things  which  the  people  in  general  do  not  recognize,  but  it 
does  not  seem,  at  least  to  him,  that  any  known  mental  proc- 
esses could  account  for  his  experience  in  receiving  the  mes- 
sage. Kaplan,  in  defining  revelation,  says,  "Revelation,  as 
I  conceive  it,  therefore,  is  a  sudden  mysterious  awareness  of 

1  R.  Smith,  Prophets  of  Israel,  p.  182. 


346  INSPIRATION 

an  inflow  of  thought,  an  inundation  of  spirit,  an  awakening 
of  mind,  seemingly  from  unaccountable  [subconscious] 
sources,  and  therefore  believed  to  be  from  not  natural  chan- 
nels through  supernatural  agency." 

It  was  this  individual  experience  which  probably  accounts 
in  part  for  the  message  of  individualism  which  was  the  pe- 
culiar note  of  the  later  prophecies.  Because  God  spoke  di- 
rectly to  the  individual  in  a  personal  way,  it  carried  with  it  the 
implication  of  a  personal  care  for  the  prophet,  and  hence  for 
all  individuals.  In  some  of  the  later  prophets,  Mohammed, 
Joseph  Smith,  and  Savonarola,  the  subconscious  character- 
istics are  equally  prominent.1  Not  only  among  the  Hebrew 
prophets,  or  the  New  Testament  writers,  or  those  who  have 
styled  themselves  prophets  since  that  time,  do  we  find  in- 
spiration, but  wherever  religious  truth,  no  matter  how  crude, 
is  declared,  there  we  must  look  for  it. 

"When  I  say  that  all  religions  depend  for  their  origin  and 
continuation  directly  upon  inspiration,  I  state  an  historic 
fact.  It  may  be  known  under  other  names,  of  credit  or  dis- 
credit, as  mysticism,  ecstasy,  rhapsody,  demoniac  possession, 
the  divine  afflatus,  the  gnosis,  or  in  its  latest  christening, 
'cosmic  consciousness.'  All  are  but  expressions  of  a  belief 
that  knowledge  arises,  words  are  uttered  or  actions  per- 
formed not  through  conscious  ideation  or  reflective  purpose, 
but  through  the  promptings  of  a  power  above  or  beyond  the 
individual  mind."  2 

The  question  of  the  true  method  of  inspiration  must  come 
to  us,  and  from  psychology  an  answer  may  be  expected. 
We  then  ask,  Are  men  used  simply  as  the  amanuenses  of 
God,  or  are  they  inspired  as  men  and  permitted  to  deliver 
their  message  in  their  own  way?    If  we  are  to  take  the  testi- 

1  J.  B.  Pratt,  The  Psychology  oj  Religious  Belie},  pp.  137-146;  W. 
James,  The  Varieties  0}  Religious  Experience,  pp.  479-482. 
3  D.  G.  Brinton,  Religions  oj  Primitive  Peoples,  p.  50. 


INSPIRATION  347 

mony  of  certain  persons  and  decide  by  this  alone,  we  must 
conclude  that  the  former  alternative  is  the  correct  position. 
For  example,  Milton  claimed  in  all  seriousness  to  be  the 
mouthpiece  of  "that  Eternal  Spirit  who  can  enrich  with  all 
utterance  and  all  wisdom;"  in  many  other  places  he  speaks 
of  the  light  that  breaks  in  upon  the  soul  when  it  becomes 
transparent  to  such  inflowing  of  the  divine. 

"We  will  listen  to  Blake's  own  account  of  the  way  in  which 
he  was  inspired  to  write  his  symbolic  poems  'Jerusalem' 
and  '  Milton.'  .  .  . 

"Black  was  taken  down  from  London  into  the  country  to 
Felpham  by  a  patron,  Hayley,  the  friend  of  Cowper.  There 
he  lived  for  three  years  by  the  seashore,  and  'enjoyed  for  a 
time  a  new  and  ampler  illumination.' 

"'Felpham,'  he  says,  'is  more  spiritual.  Heaven  opens 
here  on  all  sides  her  golden  gates,  the  windows  are  not  ob- 
structed by  vapors;  voices  of  the  celestial  inhabitants  are 
more  distinctly  heard,  and  their  forms  more  distinctly  seen, 
and  my  cottage  is  also  a  shadow  of  their  houses.'  As  he 
walked  along  the  seashore  he  was  haunted  by  the  forms  of 
Moses  and  the  prophets,  of  Homer  and  Milton.  They  seemed 
to  him  to  be  '  majestic  shadows,  gray  but  luminous,  and  su- 
perior to  the  common  height  of  men.'  These  and  other  vague 
personages  seemed  to  communicate  to  him  the  matter  of  his 
great  poem.  '  I  may  praise  it,'  he  says,  '  since  I  dare  not  pre- 
tend to  be  any  other  than  the  secretary;  the  authors  are  in 
Eternity.'  .  .  . 

'"I  have  written  this  poem  from  immediate  dictation, 
twelve,  or  sometimes  twenty  or  thirty  lines  at  a  time  without 
premeditation,  and  even  against  my  will.' "  ' 

Savonarola  said,  "But  for  ill-will,  these  men  might  easily 
have  understood  that  all  these  scenes  were  formed  in  my 
mind  by  angelic  intervention."    Beecher  gives  us  his  personal 

1  F.  Granger,  The  Soul  of  a  Christian,  pp.  215-218. 


348  INSPIRATION 

experience  thus:  "There  are  times  when  it  is  not  I  that  is 
talking;  when  I  am  caught  up  and  carried  away  so  that  I 
know  not  whether  I  am  in  the  body  or  out  of  the  body;  when 
I  think  things  in  the  pulpit  I  could  never  think  in  the  study; 
and  when  I  have  feelings  that  are  so  different  from  any  that 
belong  to  the  lower  or  normal  condition  that  I  can  neither 
regulate  them  nor  understand  them.  I  see  things  and  I  hear 
sounds,  and  seem,  if  not  in  the  seventh  heaven,  yet  in  a 
condition  which  leads  me  to  apprehend  what  Paul  said, 
that  he  heard  things  that  it  was  not  possible  for  a  man  to 
utter."  x 

The  experiences  of  Mile.  He'lene  Smith,  so  thoroughly  in- 
vestigated by  Prof.  Flournoy,2  seem  to  her  to  be  the  direct 
result  of  supernormal  agency,  but  in  this  Prof.  Flournoy  does 
not  agree.  He  thinks  it  is  the  result  of  subconscious  activity 
onlv.  She  considers  it  of  religious  significance,  but  as  the 
"revelation"  has  no  moral  or  religious  bearing,  it  does  not 
come  directly  into  our  discussion  at  this  point. 

Now  we  are  face  to  face  with  the  problem  whether  the  testi- 
mony of  witnesses,  of  which  we  have  just  had  examples, 
concerning  their  passivity  in  producing,  is  to  be  taken  as  they 
give  it,  or  whether  we  are  to  modify  it  by  our  knowledge  of 
the  working  of  the  subconsciousness.  We  have  it  presented 
in  this  way.  "There  is  a  difficulty  also  in  conceiving  how  the 
revelation  should  be  given.  Was  it  written  on  the  heavens, 
or  was  there  a  voice  from  heaven,  or  was  there  an  incarnation 
of  the  divine  upon  the  earth?  If,  on  the  other  hand,  we  con- 
ceive that  the  revelation  was  given  subjectively,  impressed 
upon  the  nature  of  the  soul,  an  inner  and  not  an  outer  reve- 
lation, it  may  have  come  primarily  through  the  intellect  or 
through  the  feeling.  .  .  .  Another  theory  of  revelation  is 
found  in  the  hypothesis  of  an  actual  presentation  of  the  object 

1  J.  R.  Howard,  Beecher's  Patriotic  Addresses,  p.  140. 
'  T.  Flournoy,  From  India  to  the  Planet  Mars. 


INSPIRATION 


349 


which  excites  the  religious  feeling,"  *  e.g.,  the  recognition  of 
spirits  through  dreams. 

Are  we  to  consider  the  intellectual  inspiration  as  verbal, 
and  the  feeling  inspiration  as  dynamic  ?  Not  necessarily  so, 
and  yet  it  might  be  divided  in  that  way.  We  may  well  un- 
derstand how,  when  a  speech,  sermon,  story,  or  a  peculiar 
phrase  comes  into  consciousness  ready-made  as  frequently 
happens  when  the  subconsciousness  is  particularly  active, 
the  person  experiencing  this  would  think  of  himself  as  pas- 
sive. Consciously  he  is  passive;  if  he  goes  no  further  to  seek 
an  explanation  he  may  well  believe  that  he  is  but  the  penman 
or  mouthpiece  of  the  Deity.  But  knowing  the  working  of 
the  subconsciousness  we  cannot  psychologically  defend  this 
contention.  Plenary  or  verbal  inspiration  really  stands  for 
an  arbitrary  and  unhistorical  method  of  interpretation,  and 
costs  more  than  it  is  worth.  To  try  to  explain  the  discrepan- 
cies and  errors  in  non-religious  matters  in  the  Bible,  for  exam- 
ple, entangles  us  in  more  difficulties  than  the  theory  of 
plenary  inspiration  can  rescue  us  from.  If  no  other  than  the 
practical  side  is  considered,  it  is  unprofitable;  psychologically 
it  is  indefensible  when  we  examine  the  case.  We  notice 
that  the  Scriptures  are  not  of  equal  value,  but  well  suited 
to  the  times  and  particular  events  with  which  they  are  con- 
nected. 

There  is  a  difference  in  degree  and  mode  of  inspiration; 
we  cannot  treat  history,  drama,  poetry,  and  prophecy  as  ex- 
actly equivalent  in  the  expression  of  religious  truth.  We  may 
recognize  the  inspiration,  providing  we  recognize  the  differ- 
ence in  degree  and  in  the  variety  of  object.  In  considering 
race  psychology,  we  must  see  that  the  inspiration  of  the 
prophets  of  the  early  peoples  was  in  keeping  with  the  capacity 
of  the  race  to  comprehend  and  apply,  and  in  considering  in- 
dividual psychology  we  can  see  that  the  inspiration  was  not 

1  C.  C.  Everett,  The  Psychological  Elements  of  Religious  Faith,  p.  45. 


35o  INSPIRATION 

above  the  capacity  and  peculiarities  of  the  individual  prophet. 
In  fact,  the  superiority  of  the  Bible  over  all  other  religious 
scriptures  consists  principally  in  just  this  combination  of  con- 
tinuity, progressiveness,  and  adaptability  to  change  of  social 
conditions  and  to  individual  growth,  with  prophetic  intuition 
which  is  attributed  to  the  Spirit  of  God. 

The  prophet,  the  inspired  man,  is  to  give  us  new  truth. 
It  has  been  a  mistake  to  attribute  to  the  prophet  simply  the 
duty  of  foretelling  the  future.  It  is  true  that  the  spiritual 
insight  of  some  has  been  of  such  a  character  that  they  have 
been  enabled  to  tell  some  things  which  to  them  seemed  in- 
evitable, but  which  were  hidden  from  the  sin-blinded  eyes  of 
others,  but  these  were  not  their  chief  nor  most  valued  con- 
tribution to  religion.  In  fact,  this  is  where  some  religious 
geniuses,  and  especially  religious  fanatics,  have  failed.  It 
was  safe  enough  for  them  to  perform  miracles— among  their 
followers;  but  they  committed  fatal  blunders  when  they  en- 
deavored to  foretell  the  future.  It  was  here  that  St.  Bernard 
was  shipwrecked,  and  on  the  same  rock  his  imitators  in 
every  age  have  split.  The  infatuations  of  the  present 
day  are  meeting  a  like  fate.  On  the  other  hand,  Savona- 
rola was  able  to  forecast  the  future  of  Italy  in  a  marvellous 
manner. 

We  have  already  noted  that  the  theory  of  plenary  inspira- 
tion is  indefensible  from  a  psychological  standpoint,  and 
whether  it  has  ever  been  of  value  theologically  we  must  allow 
the  theologians  to  decide.  In  our  examination  of  God's 
dealings  with  men  we  do  not  find  Him  using  them  as  type- 
writers and  phonographs,  but  their  peculiarities  are  always 
respected  and  they  are  used  as  men.  "From  what  has  been 
said  it  will  easily  be  seen  that  divine  inspiration  can  never 
mean  that  the  human  ceases  at  any  point  to  operate  and  be- 
comes passive  in  the  power  of  some  non-ego,  but  rather  that 
the  human  rises  with  all  the  splendor  and  pristine  glory  of  its 


INSPIRATION  351 

native  forces  to  the  highest  pinnacle  of  its  own  power."  '  He 
does  inspire  men  subconsciously,  I  believe,  and  hence  some 
form — not  the  strictest  form — of  the  dynamic  theory  would 
best  fit  the  psychological  facts.  He  works  upon  the  subcon- 
sciousness in  a  dynamic  way,  furnishing  increased  energy 
and  activity  so  that  religious  truth  is  produced.  Inspired 
men  rather  than  inspired  words  would  be  the  psychological 
distinction. 

In  harmony  with  this  idea,  a  recent  writer  puts  forth  the 
thesis  that  inspiration  is  suggestive  rather  than  dictatorial. 
"Nothing  can  be  done,  and  done  successfully,  unless  we  can 
get  people  to  perceive  that  the  essential  character  of  revela- 
tion is  the  imparting  of  truth  by  way  of  suggestion.  When, 
and  only  when  they  perceive  this,  will  they  begin  to  perceive 
that  it  is  essential  that  they  should  use  their  own  minds  in 
receiving  truth;  then  only  will  they  begin  to  compare  dif- 
ferent utterances,  and  the  bearings  of  each,  and  the  logical 
connections  between  them;  and  then  only  may  we  expect 
them,  finally,  to  arrive  at  that  to  secure  which  is  one  of  the 
reasons  why  the  revelation  is  made  suggestive,  namely, 
a  rational  conclusion."  "A  suggestion,  like  a  puzzle,  not 
only  gives  every  one  who  hears  it  an  independent  right  to  in- 
terpret it  in  his  own  way,  but  is  more  likely  to  be  solved  in  the 
right  way  in  the  degree  in  which  every  one  who  hears  it  has 
been  allowed  to  contribute  his  share  toward  its  solution."  2 

Ordinarily,  the  dynamic  theory  would  posit  that  inspiration 
originates  in  suggestion,  and  develops  from  this  suggestion 
according  to  the  idiosyncrasies  of  the  "earthen  vessel,"  but 
the  result  was  usually  considered,  at  least  for  the  time  in 
which  it  was  spoken,  dictatorial.  That  the  result  is  sug- 
gestive has  much  evidence  in  its  favor  when  we  examine  the 

lJ.  H.   Kaplan,  "Psychology  of  Prophecy,"  American  Journal  of 
Religious  Psychology  and  Education,  II,  p.  201. 
2  G.  L.  Raymond,  The  Psychology  oj  Inspiration,  pp.  326  and  328. 


352  INSPIRATION 

words  of  Jesus.  He  used  the  parabolic  method,  which,  while 
being  forceful  was,  at  the  same  time,  suggestive,  and  allowed 
of  individual  interpretation  to  such  an  extent  that  His  words 
to-day,  in  contrast  to  the  dogmatic  statements  of  His  time, 
are  as  fresh  to  the  reader  as  when  they  were  uttered.  The 
suggestiveness  of  "the  bread  of  life,"  "the  mustard  seed," 
"the  lost  sheep,"  and  "the  ten  virgins,"  is  cogent  and  potent, 
and  no  man  has  been  in  such  a  condition  since  Jesus  walked 
in  Galilee  that  these  words  would  not  appeal  to  him  as  living 
words  fitted  to  his  case.  This  view  has  much,  from  the 
example  of  Jesus,  to  commend  it. 

In  inspiration  the  subconscious  factor  is  a  large  and  im- 
portant one.  While  inspiration  is  not  a  commodity  which 
has  much  current  value,  all  of  us  have  moments  when  we 
suddenly  find  in  our  consciousnesses  some  suggestion  or  idea 
which  is  totally  different  from  the  subject  which  has  been 
engaging  us,  and  yet  which  we  immediately  recognize  as 
valuable  and  appropriate  to  some  problem  which  concerns 
us.  Or  again  we  see  the  contemporaneous  working  of  the 
consciousness  and  subconsciousness  when  some  habitual 
action  is  performed,  or  even  some  new  and  perhaps  skillful 
work  is  done,  while  we  are  deeply  engaged  in  thought  or 
conversation.  It  seems  to  us  that  some  external  agency  is  at 
work,  using  our  lives  to  accomplish  its  tasks.  At  other  times 
when  the  mind  has  apparently  freed  itself  from  the  bonds  of 
the  ordinary  means  of  mental  functioning,  difficult  problems 
and  intricate  situations  are  treated  with  a  facility  which  is 
surprising  to  us,  and  when  we  relapse  into  our  accustomed 
condition,  it  seems  as  though  we  had  fallen  from  a  height, 
as  though  the  higher  individual  which  controlled  us  for  a 
while  had  suddenly  departed.  The  former  are  the  moments 
which  we  call  inspired. 

Nor  can  this  state  of  mind  be  confined  to  the  religious 
department  of  life;  it  is  that  which  distinguishes  all  forms  of 


INSPIRATION  353 

genius,  but  is  seen  most  prominently  in  aesthetic  and  religious 
experiences.  Shakespeare  perceives  truths  which  are  com- 
monly hidden  from  conscious  minds,  Phidias  fashions  marble, 
Raphael  paints  Madonnas,  Beethoven  composes  sympho- 
nies, Isaiah  proclaims  religio-political  principles.  Conscious 
phenomena  do  not  explain  these  results  completely — genius 
can  be  followed  by  consciousness  but  not  explained. 

A  large  part  of  the  most  valuable  art  work,  it  may  be  said, 
has  been  the  result  of  intuitions  and  suggestions  which  seem 
to  come  from  below  the  threshold  of  the  conscious  life, 
rather  than  from  planning  and  reflection.  Many  artists 
have  been  apparently  spectators  and  have  consciously  been 
surprised  at  the  result  of  their  labors;  they  have  declared 
that  the  work  has  been  done  for  them  rather  than  by  them; 
the  credit  has  been  given  to  some  being  working  through 
them.  In  some  cases,  so  great  has  been  the  control  of  the 
subsconsciousness  that,  after  the  accomplishment  of  some 
superhuman  task,  the  consciousness  has  been  able  to  recall 
the  circumstances  almost  as  in  paramnesia,  as  though  it  had 
been  done  at  another  time,  under  quite  similar  circumstances, 
but  a  haze  so  conceals  it  that  it  might  well  have  been  ac- 
complished by  another  person.  Thus  the  person  thinks  of 
himself  as  the  tool  of  another,  as  the  " mouthpiece,"  "scribe," 
or  "pen"  of  some  superior  being.  This  is  really  possession 
or  obsession,  and  is  paralleled  by  the  experiences  of  our 
dream  life.  What  we  are  apt  to  think  of  in  the  extreme  as 
abnormal,  is  really  a  familiar  experience  in  its  less  emphatic 
forms,  and  is  experienced  more  or  less  by  all  persons.  A 
graduated  scale  from  the  most  normal  experience  to  that  of 
"double  consciousness"  may  easily  be  traced  by  presenting 
different  cases.1 

If  the  subconsciousness  is  thus  really  the  prominent  factor 

1  See  my  "The  Case  of  John  Kinsel,"  Part  II,  Psychological  Review, 
November,  1903,  for  a  fuller  discussion  on  this  point. 


354  INSPIRATION 

in  inspiration  which  it  appears,  it  may  well  be  seen  why 
religious  genius  might  be  connected  with  the  neurotic  tem- 
perament and  thus  with  abnormal  mentality.  In  early  days 
and  among  primitive  people  religion  exalted  woman,  among 
other  ways,  by  recognizing  her  superior  prophetic  suscepti- 
bility. Such  abnormal  experiences  as  hypnosis,  trance, 
ecstasy,  epilepsy,  etc.,  were  considered  by  these  people  to  be 
the  prerogatives  of  those  peculiarly  fit  for  divine  influences. 
We  have  recognized  the  pathological  characteristics  of  these 
states  and  consequently  have  denied  the  persons  who  have 
been  prone  to  such  experiences  any  special  religious  signifi- 
cance. Have  we  emptied  out  too  much?  This  abnormal 
quality  shows  itself  in  increased  subconscious  activity,  or, 
shall  I  say,  in  the  lowering  of  the  threshold  of  consciousness, 
so  that  what,  in  other  persons,  is  purely  subconscious  comes 
to  be  at  least  partially  conscious  in  the  genius. 

The  great  artist,  poet,  or  saint  is  separated  from  his  fel- 
lows, and  a  portion  of  his  greatness  depends  on  the  fact  that 
he  is  not  like  the  mass  of  mankind.  There  may  be  a  differ- 
ence of  opinion  as  to  whether  he  is  inspired  or  mad,  but  that 
he  is  different  all  agree.  All  notable  leaders  and  enthusiasts, 
being  swayed  by  impulses  largely  below  the  threshold  of 
consciousness,  bring  to  bear  on  human  affairs  a  force  more 
concentrated  and  at  higher  tension  than  can  be  generated  by 
deliberate  reason.  They  may  work  and  act  as  though  im- 
pelled by  an  insistent  idea,  but  this  idea  is  permeated  with 
reason  so  that  it  appeals  to  others,  and  thus  the  sect  grows,  or 
the  religion  spreads.1 

Professor  Ladd  raises  a  pertinent  protest.  ' '  The  presence  of 
the  influence  from  factors  that  only  rarely  or  never  rise  above 

1  For  a  view  of  the  connection  of  the  subconsciousness  and  inspiration, 
see  G.  T.  Ladd,  Philosophy  of  Mind,  pp.  171-176;  W.  James,  The 
Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  p.  483  /. ;  F.  W.  H.  Myers,  Human 
Personality,  etc.,  I,  p.  56  /.;  L.  Waldstein,  The  Subconscious  Self, 
p.  22  /. 


INSPIRATION  355 

the  threshold  of  consciousness,  and  the  important  relation 
which  these  factors  sustain  to  the  characteristic  phases  and 
stages  of  conscious  experience  of  religion,  may  be  said  to  be  a 
universal  and  inseparable  factor  in  religious  belief.  It  under- 
lies the  religious  doctrines  of  revelation  and  inspiration. 
That  some  of  these  phenomena  not  only  defy  analysis  but 
belong  to  the  abnormal  and  even  to  the  unpsychological  (or 
a-psychological)  need  not  be  disputed.  But  when  the  sole, 
or  even  the  chiefly  important  sources  of  the  conscious  life  of 
religion  are  assigned  to  the  obscure  and  misty  regions  of  the 
'sub-liminal  Self,'  and  the  inevitably  added  impression  is 
made  that  religion  itself  it  something  psychologically  abnor- 
mal or  wholly  mysterious,  the  errors  involved  cost  more 
heavily  than  can  be  paid  for  by  the  truth  gained."  1 

Even  in  inspiration  the  product  is  not  wholly  that  of  the 
subconsciousness,  but  the  conscious  factors  contribute  their 
part.  If,  however,  we  hold  to  our  theory  of  God's  working 
directly  on  man  through  the  subconsciousness,  the  inspira- 
tion which  is  received  through  the  consciousness  is  indirect. 
This  must  be  at  best  a  more  or  less  arbitrary  distinction,  for 
the  subconscious  products  must  receive  the  approval  of  con- 
sciousness in  order  to  be  at  all  effective.  We  must  further 
recognize  that  in  saying  that  inspiration  comes  to  us  through 
or  by  means  of  the  subconsciousness,  we  do  not  mean  that 
God  is  eliminated  from  it;  far  from  it.  According  to  our 
theory,  it  means  that  God  may  be  directly  responsible  for  it. 
We  must,  though,  guard  against  the  conclusion  that,  because 
God  works  through  the  subconsciousness,  all  the  products 
of  the  subconsciousness  are  the  direct  messages  of  God.  This 
would  be  as  unfortunate  as  it  is  erroneous.  We  must  try  the 
spirits — the  test  must  be  a  practical  one. 

The  further  question  comes  to  us:  Is  there  any. difference 
between  the  religious  genius  and   other  kinds — artists,  in- 

1  G.  T.  Ladd,  Philosophy  of  Religion,  I,  p.  266. 


356  INSPIRATION 

ventors,  or  generals?  The  answer  must  be  "Yes  and  No." 
There  is  a  difference  according  to  the  person  inspired  and 
the  subject  treated.  God's  voice  to  man  and  through  man 
has  been  expressed  in  a  variety  of  ways.  Personality  God 
always  respects.  In  viewing  the  products  of  inspiration  in 
different  persons  we  must  recognize  the  influence  of  the  tem- 
perament, mood,  and  capacity  of  the  person  at  the  time  of 
the  utterance,  and  no  great  revelation  has  ever  come  to  us 
through  an  inferior  person.  We  note  the  difference  in  in- 
spiration between  different  persons,  and  the  difference  in  the 
same  person  at  different  times.  Perhaps,  though,  we  have 
not  touched  the  vital  point  in  the  question.  Let  us  suppose  the 
same  person  was  inspired  as  a  prophet,  a  poet,  and  a  general, 
what  difference  is  there  in  the  inspiration?  Psychologically 
the  difference  would  be  in  the  difference  of  mental  activities 
which  would  be  necessary  for  the  apprehension  of  new  truth 
in  the  different  spheres.  The  inspiration  of  the  poet  must 
differ  much  from  that  of  the  general,  for  the  work  is  vastly 
different;  so  must  that  of  the  prophet  from  that  of  the  artist. 
We  cannot  posit  a  wider  distinction  or  relegate  religious  in- 
spiration to  a  separate  realm. 

In  the  days  gone  by,  when  the  mind  was  divided  into 
faculties,  religious  inspiration  was  assigned  to  the  religious 
faculty;  but  to-day  when  we  know  that  the  same  mental  fac- 
tors are  used  in  religion  as  in  the  general  affairs  of  life,  ex- 
cept that  they  are  turned  in  a  different  direction,  inspiration 
must  be  thought  of  as  a  general  experience,  and  the  difference 
predicated  according  to  the  subject  treated.  Further,  to-day 
we  are  recognizing  that  God  is  interested  in  art,  inventions, 
and  commerce,  as  well  as  in  religion  in  the  narrower  sense  of 
the  word,  and  that  as  His  kingdom  is  coming  through  all 
these  means,  inspiration  may  well  come  from  Him  for  the 
declaration  of  new  truth  in  these  fields.  The  idea  of  inspira- 
tion must  be  extended  to  include  these  other  things  or  aban- 


INSPIRATION  357 

doned  altogether.  But  the  measure  of  religious  inspiration  is 
not  only  the  consciousness  of  the  person  inspired,  but  there 
must  be  the  proof  of  a  higher  providence  at  work.  This 
proof  comes  in  the  production  by  the  inspired  one  of  new 
truth  of  a  high  moral  and  religious  value. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

WILL 

"My  will  is  something  sorted  with  his  wish: 
Muse  not  that  I  thus  suddenly  proceed; 
For  what  I  will,  I  will,  and  there  an  end." 

Shakespeare. 

Thinking  is  most  likely  to  move  in  circles.  This  is  true 
not  only  with  the  individual  but  with  the  race.  That  every 
gyration  is  on  a  more  elevated  plane  is  probably  the  case,  so 
that  the  figure  would  really  be  a  spiral  rather  than  a  circular 
movement.  In  psychological  theory  different  mental  factors 
are  given  the  supremacy  by  different  persons  or  at  different 
times.  At  one  time  the  intellect,  at  another  time  the  feeling, 
and  at  another  time  the  will  is  put  into  the  ascendency. 

We  are  returning  now  to  Aristotle,  for  the  will  is  primal  in 
modern  psychology.  All  psychic  experience  must  have  the 
basic  factor  in  will,  and  although  it  may  be  said  that  affective 
and  intellectual  qualities  are  not  lacking  in  conative  factors, 
this  is  not  true  to  the  same  extent.  The  purpose  and  direc- 
tion of  thinking  are  what  make  it  valuable;  it  is  because  we 
will  that  we  think.  The  relationship  between  desire  and 
liking  shows  the  connection  between  will  and  feeling.  Will, 
rather  than  an  element  in  consciousness,  seems  to  be  the 
process  by  which  the  self  realizes  itself  and  its  mission  through 
activity.  Although  we  cannot  isolate  any  one  function  and 
say  that  it  is  the  principal  factor,  for  all  psychic  elements  have 
their  mission  and  worth,  yet  we  can  distinguish  that  which 
seems  to  us  basal. 

358 


WILL  359 

Now,  what  is  true  of  psychology  in  general,  is,  of  course, 
true  of  religious  psychology.  Many  of  the  recent  movements 
and  developments  in  religion  have  laid  emphasis  on  the  will, 
and  movements  of  this  kind  are  characteristic  of  the  age. 
The  recent  movement  known  as  Pragmatism,  as  well  as  by 
other  names,  assumes  the  primacy  of  the  will,  and  is  devel- 
oped from  this  basis.  It  is  noticeable  that  our  heresy  trials 
of  the  past  have  been  conducted  with  the  assumption  of  the 
primacy  of  the  intellect.  A  man's  creed,  or  lack  of  creed, 
was  the  subject  of  investigation  and  discussion.  The  creeds 
of  most  denominations  are  dead  to-day.  This  is  an  inevitable 
consequence  of  definite  and  exact  statement;  the  creed  is 
thus  stationary  while  the  race  develops.  Few  creeds  written 
years  ago  can  now  be  accepted  with  "mental  reservations," 
and  those  written  to-day  can  only  be  for  to-day  and  not  for 
a  century  hence.  Now,  if  the  emphasis  be  shifted  to  the  will 
in  religion,  heresy  trials  must  be  concerned  with  this  factor 
rather  than  with  the  intellect.  The  heresy  of  creed  has 
really  never  been  a  serious  matter  notwithstanding  the  em- 
phasis laid  upon  it  by  the  church,  but  the  heresy  of  conduct 
always  has  been.  If  this  new  emphasis  causes  men  to  recog- 
nize this  it  will  take  them  back  to  Christ  more  assuredly 
than  any  recent  movement.  He  laid  emphasis  on  conduct, 
and  neither  had  nor  left  any  formulated  creed.  "By  their 
fruits  ye  shall  know  them"  emphasizes  the  will,  and  this  is 
the  kernel  of  Christ's  doctrine  concerning  heresy. 

The  only  thing,  therefore,  that  He  recognized  as  positively 
evil  seems  to  have  been  a  perverted  will,  just  as  the  only 
thing  that  He  considered  positively  good  seems  to  have  been 
the  good  will.  Heresy  has  never  been  centered  around  the 
feelings,  because  these  are  rather  intangible,  but  the  religious 
aristocracy  of  the  past  has  consisted  largely  of  those  of  emo- 
tional temperament.  Those  who  could  not  feel  well  have 
been  pitied  rather  than  blamed,  and  have  been  considered  un- 


36o  WILL 

spiritual  and  consequently  of  a  lower  order  even  if  not  classed 
as  heterodox.  To-day,  and  probably  increasingly  more  so 
in  the  future,  the  doers  must  be  considered  the  aristocracy  of 
Christianity  and  the  feelers  must  be  both  pitied  and  blamed, 
if  doing  is  not  also  a  part  of  their  religion.  Men  now  are 
agreeing  more  with  Pope  when  he  said, 

"  For  modes  of  faith  let  graceless  zealots  fight, 
He  can't  be  wrong  whose  life  is  in  the  right." 

The  following  quotation  seems  to  state  the  relation  of  the 
psychic  factors  in  true  proportion.  "That  religion  psycho- 
logically considered,  like  all  other  human  conscious  devel- 
opments, has  in  some  sort  its  seat  in  the  voluntary  powers; 
that  from  the  ethical  point  of  view,  it  necessarily  shows  itself 
in  the  form  of  control  over  conduct;  and  that  the  objective 
manifestations  of  religion  in  its  cult  and  institutions  cannot 
properly  be  disregarded  in  forming  our  conception  of  the 
nature  of  religion; — all  these,  and  other  correlated  evidences 
to  the  prominence  of  will  in  the  religious  life  and  development 
of^man  must  be  freely  acknowledged  and  fairly  estimated. 
.  .  *  But  unintelligent  and  unemotional  willing  cannot  form 
the  essential  content  of  anything  that  has  worth."  * 

Owing, "not  a  little,  to  the  influence  of  the  modern  revival 
and  the  methods  which  have  been  associated  with  it,  will 
has  had  little  part  in  the  form  of  conversion  espoused  by  the 
revivalist.  The  emphasis  has  been  laid  upon  emotional 
states  rather  than  upon  conation,  and  the  legitimate  use  of 
the  will  has  been  largely  neglected.  Self-surrender  and  a 
total  disuse  of  the  will  have  ever  been  the  keynote  of  the 
revival;  everything  must  be  forfeited — intellect,  will,  pos- 
sessions, ambitions,  pleasures — everything.  The  opposition 
of  man's  will  to  the  Almighty's  was  presented  with  the  por- 
trayal of  fearful  doom.    Even  the  presence  of  man's  will  in 

1  G.  T.  Ladd,  Philosophy  oj  Religion,  I,  p.  116  /. 


WILL  361 

religion  was  to  be  visited  with  awful  consequences.  Most 
revivalists  are  not  psychologists,  but  were  they,  they  could 
not  more  skilfully  contrive  to  get  their  audiences  in  a  passive 
condition  where  they  are  peculiarly  susceptible  and  ready  to 
accept  any  suggestion  which  the  revivalist  may  then  present. 

Is  there,  then,  no  element  of  self -surrender  in  conversion  ? 
Does  not  Jesus  speak  of  giving  up  parents  and  possessions 
for  the  sake  of  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven?  Was  not  His  life 
one  of  self-surrender  and  self-sacrifice?  To  all  these  ques- 
tions the  affirmative  answer  is  the  only  true  one,  but  there  is 
a  vast  difference  between  the  non-voluntary,  passive  self- 
surrender  of  the  revivalist,  and  the  deliberative,  voluntary 
self-surrender  which  Jesus  proposed  and  which  the  New 
Testament  emphasizes.  In  the  latter  case  it  was  the  func- 
tioning of  the  will  which  was  required,  and  never  the  lack 
of  it.1 

One  reason  for  our  misinterpretation  is  that  we  have 
translated  the  Greek  words  and  given  to  the  translation  an 
emotional  meaning.  For  example,  /xerdvoia  is  translated 
"repentance"  which  is  commonly  defined  "feeling  sorry  for 
your  sins."  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  Greek  word  does  not 
carry  with  it  the  feeling  element  at  all.  It  conveys  the  im- 
pression of  the  activity  of  intellect  and  will.  It  might  be 
defined  as  "a  deliberative  and  thoughtful  change  of  mind." 
It  is  just  the  opposite  of  impulsive,  emotional  action.  The 
confusion  has  probably  arisen  from  the  fact  that  two  Greek 
words  have  been  translated  by  the  same  English  word.  The 
other  Greek  word,  fiera/neXofiat,  does  signify  regret  and  sor- 
row, and  is  a  purely  emotional  word.  This  is  not  the  word  used 
by  Jesus  in  His  effort  to  persuade  men  to  change  their  mode 
of  life,  but  it  is  used  to  describe  Judas'  feelings  when  he  re- 
turned the  thirty  pieces  of  silver  to  the  donors.  One  word 
encourages  to  hopeful  action,  the  other  condemns  to  hope- 

1  See  my  Psychology  0}  Alcoholism,  pp.  305-308. 


362 


WILL 


less  regret.    James  gives  a  good  illustration  of  the  difference 
between  the  two  words  in  the  following  psychological  analysis. 

"The  difference  between  willing  and  merely  wishing,  be- 
tween having  ideals  that  are  creative  and  ideals  that  are  but 
pinings  and  regrets,  thus  depends  solely  either  on  the  amount 
of  steam-pressure  chronically  driving  the  character  in  the 
ideal  direction,  or  in  the  amount  of  ideal  excitement  tran- 
siently acquired.  Given  a  certain  amount  of  love,  indigna- 
tion, generosity,  magnanimity,  admiration,  loyalty,  or  en- 
thusiasm of  self-surrender,  the  result  is  always  the  same. 
That  whole  raft  of  cowardly  obstructions,  which  in  tame 
persons  and  dull  moods  are  sovereign  impediments  to  action, 
sinks  away  at  once."  * 

Similarly,  eiria-Tpofyr),  conversion,  signifies  a  definite  act; 
it  is  a  volitional  word.  "  It  is  man's  first  act  under  the  leading 
of  divine  grace  in  the  process,  of  salvation,  the  initial  step  in 
the  transition  from  evil  to  good."  2  Repentance  and  Con- 
version are  closely  connected  and  both  are  volitional  acts; 
the  first  is  the  act  of  turning  away  from  evil  and  the  second 
the  act  of  turning  toward  good.  Each  one  implies  the  other, 
and  either  might  be  used  to  describe  the  total  process.3 
With  the  meaning  of  these  words  before  us  we  can  easily  see 
that  will  is  not  only  admissible  in  conversion  but  absolutely 
essential.  It  is  the  lack  of  deliberate  will  which  causes  so 
many  retrogressions  among  revival  converts.  A  similar 
analysis  of  the  Greek  word  translated  "love"  in  the  New 
Testament  will  show  that  it  is  primarily  a  state  of  will  rather 
than  of  feeling,  a  certain  attitude  of  mind  which  can  be  volun- 
tarily assumed  by  all  persons  regardless  of  temperament. 

Perhaps  another  reason  why  the  emotional  elements  in 

1  W.  James,  The  Varieties  0}  Religious  Experience,  p.  266. 
a  J.  S.  Banks,  Art.  "Conversion,"  Hastings'  Bible  Dictionary,  I,  p.  478- 
3  F.  M.  Davenport,  Primitive  Traits  in  Religious  Revivals,  p.  295; 
G.  A.  Coe,  The  Religion  0}  a  Mature  Mind,  pp.  195-200. 


WILL  363 

conversion  are  emphasized  at  the  expense  of  the  will  is  that 
the  emotional  factors  in  Jesus'  life  have  been  unduly  en- 
larged upon,  and  His  passive  characteristics  exaggerated. 
As  we  have  already  pointed  out  in  the  chapter  on  sex,  Jesus' 
will  rather  than  His  emotions  predominated.  He  practised 
what  He  preached.  The  great  need  of  volitional  hymns, 
hymns  of  activity,  and  the  abundant  supply  of  emotional 
hymns,  have  probably  had  an  influence  in  the  same  direction. 
In  both  these  matters  we  have  followed  the  church  inter- 
preters rather  than  the  Gospel.  Religion,  true  religion,  must 
affect  the  whole  man,  and  any  process  under  the  name  of 
religion  which  leaves  out  the  will  can  hardly  be  called 
Christian. 

Some  cases  seem  to  appear  when  the  will  is  almost  shat- 
tered, and  conversion  seems  to  stimulate  and  renew  it;  this 
is  true,  and  yet  in  even  the  cases  where  the  effort  of  will 
seems  least  possible,  some  effort,  however  small,  must  be 
made  in  order  that  the  other  factors  of  mind  may  be  directed 
in  the  proper  channels.  An  appeal  to  the  moral  will  is  never 
hopeless,  especially  in  men.  Starbuck  defines  the  function  of 
the  will  in  conversion  to  be  "  to  give  point  and  direction  to  the 
unconscious  processes  of  growth  which,  in  turn,  work  out  and 
give  back  to  clear  consciousness  the  revelation  striven  after."  ' 
This  is  probably  true,  but  does  not  express  all  the  work  of  the 
will.  Conscious  action  must  also  be  directed,  and  however 
prominent  the  subconsciousness  is  in  conversion  there  is 
always  a  conscious  factor;  or  else  it  is  not  conversion  accord- 
ing to  the  New  Testament  definition. 

Not  only  revivalists  but  mystics  as  well  have  laid  great 
emphasis  on  the  subjection  and  subduing  of  the  will,  and  for 
not  dissimilar  reasons.  When  the  will  is  subdued  the  sub- 
ject is  in  a  condition  of  suggestibility.  There  is  no  direction 
of  conscious  thought,  and  consequently  the  subconsciousness 

1  E.  D.  Starbuck,  The  Psychology  oj  Religion,  p.  112. 


364  WILL 

is  allowed  control.  It  is  at  such  times  that  visions  and  other 
ecstatic  experiences  are  most  likely  to  appear.  Not  all  mys- 
tics, however,  have  neglected  the  will.  Eckhart  made  much 
of  it.  He  said,  "If  your  will  is  right  you  cannot  go  wrong"; 
"There  is  nothing  evil  but  the  evil  will  [intention],  of  which 
sin  is  the  appearance."  Ruysbroek  said,  "Ye  are  holy  as  ye 
truly  will  to  be  holy."  From  the  very  nature  of  the  case  it  is 
evident,  though,  that  the  will  cannot  be  exalted  among  most 
mystics.  To  mysticism,  in  general,  the  chief  value  of  the  will 
is  in  the  reaction  which  it  has  upon  the  emotions.  Nor  need 
we  minimize  this  action  of  the  voluntary  powers.  The  reac- 
tion upon  both  the  intellect  and  emotions  in  the  case  of  the 
invigorated  will  of  the  new  convert  is  most  noticeable.  The 
other  factors  are  of  little  religious  value  without  the  will — in 
fact,  they  are  so  closely  bound  together  that  one  cannot  be 
stimulated  without  affecting  the  others,  but  in  different  types 
of  character  one  of  the  factors  predominates. 

We  know  nothing  of  the  intellect  or  of  the  emotions  without 
the  use  of  the  will:  these  other  activities  show  themselves 
only  in  acts,  and  unless  the  aspirations  and  recognized  duties 
of  the  soul  toward  God  are  translated  into  their  different 
effects,  they  tend  to  die  away  into  a  mechanical  and  barren 
turn  of  mind.  Mere  self  examination  without  the  accom- 
panying effort  to  right  the  wrongs  discovered  is  like  discov- 
ering a  disease  without  trying  to  effect  a  cure,  and  becomes 
either  useless  or  morbid.  It  is  the  will  which  can  furnish  the 
only  fitting  culmination  to  all  other  mental  activity,  it  is  the 
end  toward  which  all  other  factors  tend.  And  in  religion, 
especially,  the  will  is  not  something  that  finds  expression  in 
an  isolated  act,  but  it  reveals  itself  in  the  attitude  of  mind 
toward  the  whole  universe  of  ends. 

It  is  further  to  be  recognized  that  religion  furnishes  the 
best  and  safest  outlet  for  the  excesses  of  activity  of  either  the 
intellect  or  the  emotions;    if  these  excesses  are  objectionable 


WILL  365 

in  religion,  as,  of  course,  they  are,  we  should  find  them  far 
more  objectionable  and  abnormal  in  other  departments  of 
life.  The  mystic  shows  usually  strong  emotions,  but  a  weak 
intellect;  in  what  more  harmless  or  at  the  same  time  useful 
way  could  he  express  these  characteristics  ?  The  fanatic,  on 
the  other  hand,  exhibits  a  strong  will  with  a  weak  or  narrow 
intellect,  and  as  dangerous  as  this  occasionally  is  in  religious 
life,  it  most  frequently  passes  off  in  harmless  activities. 

The  effect  of  the  will  on  the  intellect  is  nowhere  more 
plainly  seen  than  in  its  relation  to  beliefs,  as  strange  as  that 
may  seem.  The  presented  facts  or  the  logical  conclusions 
do  not  have  the  power  of  "the  will  to  believe."  The  religious 
beliefs  of  a  person  demonstrate  this  more  readily  than  any 
other.  The  wish  is  father  to  the  thought,  and  most  persons 
accept  the  religious  beliefs  which  they  wish  to.  The  beliefs 
follow  the  ideals  or  lack  of  ideals;  for  example,  a  person  may 
recognize  the  fear  and  despair  which  would  follow  disbelief, 
accept  certain  comfortable  doctrines  for  his  peace  of  mind, 
and  does  not,  will  not,  investigate.  His  search  is  not  for 
truth,  but  he  accepts  only  the  fragments — perhaps  contra- 
dictory fragments — which  he  wills  to  accept. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  searcher  for  truth  is  equally  de- 
pendent upon  will.  He  cannot  search,  he  is  unable  to  attend, 
he  cannot  form  judgments  according  to  ends  or  ideals  without 
definite  acts  of  will.  If  we  take  will  as  the  basal  fact  of  life, 
and  activity  as  its  culmination,  we  should  more  correctly  say 
that  the  intellect  and  the  feelings  are  at  all  times  simply  the 
aids  of  will.  They  give  to  the  self  the  facts  upon  which  it 
works,  and  help  to  establish  values  so  that  the  self  may  act 
in  the  most  profitable  way. 

Other  factors  have  their  appropriate  work,  but  all  sub- 
serving the  same  ends  of  purposeful  activity.  However  ex- 
alted a  thought  may  be,  and  however  lofty  the  emotions,  we 
cannot  call  them  religion  nor  can  we  think  of  them  as  a  re- 


366  WILL 

ligious  unit  capable  of  being  developed  religiously  unless 
there  is  connected  with  them  appropriate  activity.  A.  Sabatier 
says,  "The  essence  of  religion  is  a  commerce,  a  conscious 
and  willed  relation  into  which  the  soul  in  distress  enters  with 
a  mysterious  power  on  which  it  feels  that  it  depends."  Ladd 
says,  "Religion,  subjectively  considered,  covers  all  the  rela- 
tions in  which  the  will  of  man  must  be,  or  properly  may  be, 
conceived  of  as  standing  to  the  Divine  Will."  Will  is  the 
basis;  other  things  are  essential  to  the  development  of  will 
in  order  that  religion  may  be  real  and  valuable. 

It  may  be  fitting  at  this  time  to  glance  at  the  different  fac- 
tors of  will  to  determine  more  accurately  the  exact  place 
which  they  have  in  the  religious  life.  Will  is  distinguished 
from  lower  conative  activity  by  a  conscious  end  to  be  attained. 
It  is  this  matter  of  ends  or  ideals  which  is  set  before  the  self 
that  determines  the  standard  of  values  so  important  to  life  as 
a  whole,  and  particularly  religious  and  moral  life.  The  feel- 
ings have  not  a  little  influence  on  these  ideals,  but  the  will, 
far  more  than  the  feelings,  regulates  the  question  of  values, 
for  the  will  is  used  to  control  and  change  the  feelings,  and  in 
choosing  what  shall  have  value. 

Deliberation  is  usually  considered  an  intellectual  attain- 
ment, but  it  requires  a  definite  act  of  will  to  deliberate.  It  is 
here  that  we  see  the  work  of  voluntary  attention,  that  most 
valuable  and  ubiquitous  mental  factor.  No  mental  work  of 
any  value  or  importance  can  be  produced  without  the  aid  of 
voluntary  attention;  it  is  the  prime  requisite  for  effective 
mentality. 

Closely  connected  with  this  is  the  matter  of  control.  Con- 
trol is  a  necessity  of  deliberation.  It  may  be  defined  as  the 
balance  between  the  ever-present  impulses  on  the  one  hand 
and  inhibition  on  the  other.  If  the  force  of  either  of  them  is 
much  increased,  or  the  presence  of  either  abated,  there 
control  is  more  or  less  lost.    It  is  the  will  which  overcomes 


WILL  367 

inequalities  in  these  contrary  forces,  and  maintains  the  bal- 
ance as  necessary  for  control. 

Choice  approaches  the  culmination  of  the  work  of  will. 
Whether  in  the  form  of  superior  choice  or  of  the  minor  choices 
of  every  day,  we  can  all  recognize  the  value  of  this  element. 
What  would,  what  could,  religion  be  without  it?  It  is  here 
that  decisions  are  made  which  are  the  root  of  all  religious 
effort.  We  not  only  choose  the  main  course  of  life,  but  with 
that  in  view  make  choices  almost  every  minute.  The  relig- 
ious life  is  at  heart  a  series  of  choices  to  be  put  into  effect. 

But  the  supreme  factor  in  will  is  effort.  The  whole  process, 
however  complete  in  the  first  parts,  is  a  failure  if  it  does  not 
result  in  effort.  We  may  say  further  that  religion  as  a  whole 
is  a  failure  if  there  is  no  effort.  This  is  one  reason  why  we 
have  affirmed  that  will  is  the  basis  of  the  religious  life,  and 
why  we  have  spoken  of  the  heresy  of  will  rather  than  that  of 
the  intellect.  However  satisfactory  the  feelings  may  be  to  the 
individual  expressing  them,  and  however  faultless  a  creed 
or  argument  may  appear  to  its  author  and  his  friends,  if 
these  do  not  result  in  effort,  in  a  superior  form  of  conduct, 
and  in  an  attempt  to  help  others,  it  cannot  be  deemed  relig- 
ious, or  at  least  Christian.  Long  continued  effort  in  any  one 
direction  is  a  test  of  mental  force:  and  if  this  direction  is  in 
the  line  of  religion  or  morals  it  is  a  supreme  test  of  character. 
It  is  no  accident  that  the  New  Testament  lays  such  emphasis 
on  endurance;  success  comes  only  through  endurance  in  any 
field,  and  religious  success  is  no  exception  to  the  rule.  Sus- 
tained effort  must  be  the  aim  of  the  Christian  life.  I  have 
endeavored  to  present  the  value  of  these  factors  of  will,  not 
exhaustively,  but  merely  suggestively,  so  that  some  idea  may 
be  had  of  the  real  place  of  will  in  the  religious  life. 

It  is  necessary  for  us  to  touch  briefly  the  much  mooted 
subject  of  "the  freedom  of  the  will,"  but  this  from  the  psy- 
chological standpoint  only.    What  theology  and  philosophy 


368 


WILL 


have  to  say  on  the  question  does  not  interest  us  in  our  dis- 
cussion here,  but  psychology  has  something  to  say.  Viewed 
from  this  point  we  may  say  that  man  is  practically  free,  or, 
shall  we  say,  morally  free.1  The  usual  statement  of  the 
question  is  an  unfortunate  one,  for  as  we  have  already  im- 
plied, by  will  we  mean  a  much  wider  scope  than  is  ordinarily 
understood  by  this  term,  and  by  "freedom  of  the  will"  we 
mean  the  freedom  of  the  self  to  will.  Religion  then  asks  the 
question,  "What  is  the  attitude  of  the  human  will  to  the 
Divine  Will?"  Has  this  question  any  meaning  for  religion 
unless  man  is  morally  free?  Will,  then,  comprehends  the 
entire  active  aspect  of  the  mental  life  as  it  reaches  its  highest 
attainment  in  conscious  deliberation  and  choice,  and  in  an 
effort  to  act  intelligently  on  this  choice,  in  the  furtherance  of 
moral  conduct.  Activity  is  the  keynote,  and  man  shows  his 
freedom  in  thinking,  imagining,  and  feeling.  The  highest 
expression  of  freedom,  then,  is  the  ability  to  respond  to  the 
Divine  Will. 

"It  is,  however,  in  the  adjusting  of  himself,  by  a  more  or 
less  deliberative  choice,  to  the  Object  of  religious  belief  that 
man's  freedom  makes  the  culminating  exhibition  of  itself .  .  .  . 
To  choose  whether,  or  not,  to  worship  or  to  serve  this  Being 
is  the  highest  exercise  of  human  freedom  in  the  domain  of 
religion."  "Every  individual  is  a  more  or  less  perfected 
Selfhood,  according  to  the  intensity  and  comprehensiveness 
attained  by  the  development  of  the  so-called  faculties  of  self- 
consciousness,  recognitive  memory,  reasoning,  and  the  sus- 
ceptibilities to  the  higher  forms  of  ethical,  Eesthetical,  and 
religious  feeling— all  suffused  with,  and  controlled  by,  the 
self-determined  activity  called  a  'free  will.'"  2 

Of  course  we  must  recognize  that  moral  freedom  is  not 

1  G.  T.  Ladd,  Philosophy  o)  Religion,  I,  pp.  334~339>  discusses  this 
question. 

2  G.  T.  Ladd,  Philosophy  oj  Religion,  I,  pp.  335  /•  and  602. 


WILL  369 

ready  made,  and  an  accompaniment  of  birth.  Both  morality 
and  freedom  are  matters  of  development,  and  differ  in  degree 
and  kind  according  to  the  acquisition  of  the  individual  and 
the  race.  When  we  speak,  then,  of  moral  and  religious 
freedom,  it  should  always  be  remembered  that  we  are  not 
speaking  of  a  constant  quantity,  but  of  something  varying 
with  every  individual  and  even  in  the  same  individual  at 
different  times.  These  two  things,  then,  psychology  has  to 
say  on  the  subject  of  "freedom  of  the  will":  man  is  morally 
free,  the  freedom  showing  itself  most  plainly  in  the  response 
to  moral  appeals;  and  the  amount  and  quality  of  the  free- 
dom varies  with  the  individual. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

EMOTIONS 
"Hang  those  that  talk  of  fear." — Shakespeare. 

The  place  of  the  emotions  in  religion  has  been  variously 
estimated.  There  is  no  doubt  about  their  importance.  As 
sources  of  religion  they  are  probably  primal,  and  for  furnish- 
ing material  for  religion  they  take  a  prominent  place.  The 
intellect  and  the  emotions  furnish  the  material  with  which 
the  will  operates.  Considering  this,  it  is  not  strange  that 
many  have  denned  religion  in  terms  of  the  emotions.  Schleier- 
macher,  one  of  the  first  writers  on  psychology  of  religion, 
took  this  position,  and  he  has  been  followed,  among  others, 
by  Herbart,  Sabatier,  Upton,  and  more  recently  Everett, 
James,  and  Starbuck. 

As  a  general  thing,  there  is  a  lessened  regard  for  emotion- 
alism in  religion  to-day,  probably  due  to  a  reaction,  for  in  the 
past  it  has  been  unduly  honored.  A  claim  to  sainthood,  or 
even  to  religion  of  any  kind,  without  an  excess  of  emotional 
experience,  would  have  been  considered  invalid,  and  as  has 
already  been  indicated,  if  our  hymns  are  any  index  to  past 
religion  it  was  almost  totally  emotional.  In  the  reaction, 
some  have  been  inclined  to  reject  emotional  experiences  alto- 
gether, judging  the  whole  product  by  the  excess,  but  the 
general  disposition  is  to  accord  them  the  proper  position  in  a 
symmetrical  and  well  developed  life.  The  problem  to-day 
is  to  discover  this  position.  One  thing  we  can  postulate,  and 
that  is  that  feeling  alone  is  not  sufficient  to  account  for  re- 
ligion either  in  its  source  or  material.    If  this  is  true,  it  nat- 

37° 


EMOTIONS 


371 


urally  follows  that  no  one  emotion,  as  e.g.,  fear,  is  large 
enough  for  the  task. 

No  emotions  can  stand  as  purely  affective  states.  Take, 
for  instance,  that  one  of  dependence,  upon  which  Schleier- 
macher  endeavors  to  found  religion;  it  is  impossible  to 
separate  this  from  rational  implicates.  The  same  is  more  or 
less  true  of  all  the  emotions,  and  an  emotional  basis  in  which 
the  intellect  does  not  have  an  important  part  is  scarcely  con- 
ceivable from  the  standpoint  of  modern  psychology,  what- 
ever may  have  seemed  consistent  when  men  studied  about 
the  separate  faculties  of  the  soul.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is 
just  as  impossible  to  think  of  reason  absolutely  devoid  of 
feeling,  and  we  would  as  freely  combat  the  thesis  that  reason 
alone  will  suffice  in  religion.  For  example,  a  purely  intel- 
lectual cult  is  almost  unthinkable,  for  in  worship  the  emo- 
tions must  be  appealed  to,  appealed  to  primarily  to  prevent 
the  degeneration  into  a  formal  exercise  of  little  or  no  value 
to  the  individual.  On  the  other  hand,  untrammeled  emotions 
in  worship  produce  camp-meeting  phenomena,  which  are 
always  to  be  deprecated  in  the  interests  of  healthy  religion. 
Self-control  by  the  will  is  necessary  in  order  to  prevent  hys- 
teria or  formalism,  both  of  which  we  must  eschew.  The  tend- 
ency to-day  may  be  rather  in  the  direction  of  too  complete 
suppression  of  the  emotions,  but  this  tendency  will  naturally 
be  overcome.  A  further  objection  to  the  use  of  any  single 
emotion,  or  to  all  the  emotions  for  that  matter,  as  a  dis- 
tinguishing characteristic  of  the  religious  life,  is  that  these 
emotions  are  common  outside  the  realm  of  religion.1  It  brings 
us  back  to  our  thesis  that  religion  deals  with  the  whole  man, 
and  the  whole  man  deals  with  religion. 

The  great  divergence  of  opinion  concerning  the  emotions 
and  their  place,  not  only  in  religion  but  in  other  psychic 

1  J.  H.  Leuba,  "Religion  as  a  Factor  in  the  Struggle  for  Life,"  Amer- 
ican Journal  oj  Religions  Psychology  and  Education,  II,  p.  314  /. 


372  EMOTIONS 

states,  is  due  to  the  great  difficulty  in  treating  them  satis- 
factorily and  completely.  They  may  only  be  studied  through 
memory,  and  that  when  memory  is  not  in  its  best  form.  In 
addition  to  this,  they  vary  greatly  with  the  individual  and 
with  the  occasion.  The  relegating  of  the  emotions  in  their 
primary  effects  to  the  reflex  system  entirely,  and  only  to  the 
higher  mental  factors  in  a  secondary  way,  which  the  now 
popular  and  over-worked  James-Lange  theory  does,  has 
been  an  additional  confusing  element.  Of  course,  no  one 
doubts  the  reverberating  influence  of  the  bodily  organs,  but 
to  make  the  part  take  the  place  of  the  whole  has  been  a  fallacy. 
It  is  easy  to  understand  how  Professor  James  could  eliminate 
the  intellect  or  any  higher  function  from  connection  with  the 
emotions,  under  the  influence  of  this  theory,  as  a  primary 
source  of  religion;  for  under  this  theory  the  emotions,  except 
in  an  indirect  way,  cannot  have  much  commerce  with  the 
intellect. 

An  injury  which  emotionalism  has  done  religion  through 
misunderstanding  has  been  that  it  has  been  considered  that 
any  kind  of  excitement  was  distinctively  religious  in  character 
if  it  was  in  any  way  associated  with  religious  gatherings  or 
worship.  Christianity,  or  certain  of  its  doctrines,  has  been 
condemned,  when  the  real  condemnation  should  have  been 
of  certain  emotionalisms.  This  is  especially  true  of  revivals. 
We  have  noticed  not  only  the  emotional  type,  but  also  the 
rational  and  controlled  type  in  revivals.  It  is  the  former  to 
which  we  refer  here.  In  the  latter  type  the  emotions  are  not 
absent,  but  controlled.  The  stimulation  is  not  followed  by 
reflex  action,  but  by  reflection  and  then,  perhaps,  by  action. 

In  addition  to  these  revival  cases,  we  have  a  type  which 
most  often,  if  not  always,  appears  in  solitude  and  is  quite 
characteristic  of  adolescence.  It  is  a  comparatively  calm, 
yet  intense  state,  which  does  not  express  itself  in  so  boister- 
ous a  manner  as  the  revival  type,  and  arises  spontaneously. 


EMOTIONS  373 

While  this  is  a  distinct  type,  the  two  forms  are  sometimes 
found  in  the  same  individual,  or  more  or  less  mixed,  as  in 
certain  mystics.  While  the  revival  form  of  religion  is  liable 
to  be  transitory,  the  spontaneous,  calm  form  is  likely  to  be 
much  more  permanent.  The  revival  type  is  too  common  to 
need  any  examples,  but  of  the  other  type  notice  that  most 
vivid  and  forceful  description  of  the  night  of  the  soul  by  the 
Spanish  mystic,  St.  John  of  the  Cross.  Emotionalism  as 
"the  vice  of  democracy"  has  been  distinctly  recognized  in 
past  revivals,  and  this  is  a  great  gain.  Its  contagious  char- 
acter is  also  well  known.  In  the  most  extreme  cases  we 
have  had  religious  intoxication,  but  because  of  this  we  must 
not  make  the  mistake  of  eliminating  the  emotions  entirely; 
instead,  they  should  be  rationally  controlled. 

It  is  one  of  the  seeming  paradoxes  of  religion,  yet  none  the 
less  true,  that  religion  is  the  cure  for  the  excitement  in  which 
sometimes  it  takes  its  rise,  by  furnishing  an  outlet  through 
appropriate  activities.  By  crystallizing  the  feelings  through 
activity  they  are  deepened,  strengthened,  and  at  the  same 
time  appropriately  placed.  Feelings  must  get  in  touch  with 
the  practical  or  they  inevitably  fade  away  and  their  useful- 
ness is  destroyed.  James  points  out !  that  unless  we  act  upon 
our  emotions  we  are  the  worse  for  them,  and  life  fails  in  its 
realization.  Here,  of  course,  the  emphasis  is  placed  on  the 
will.  We  must  further  realize  that,  without  the  association  of 
emotionalism  with  high  and  comprehensive  ideals,  it  amounts 
to  no  more  than  a  puff  of  powder  in  the  open  air.  The  same 
powder  might  have  been  orderly  arranged  with  rifle,  bullet, 
and  cartridge,  and  have  been  a  great  power.  Excessive 
emotionalism  not  only  is  useless  in  itself,  but  it  so  destroys 
the  equilibrium  that  the  other  mental  factors  are  unable  to 
perform  their  functions.  -- 

Emotions  are  not  uniform  in  their  expression,  and  this  is 

1  W.  James,  Principles  of  Psychology,  I,  p.  125  /. 


374 


EMOTIONS 


especially  true  in  religion.  It  is  impossible  to  maintain  the 
powerful  emotions  of  religion  for  a  very  long  time,  for  either 
the  strain  will  become  too  great  and  a  temporary  insanity 
will  ensue,  or  else  it  will  be  followed  by  complementary  emo- 
tions. From  the  greatest  religious  exaltation  the  saint  fre- 
quently fell  to  the  depths  of  depression,  or  else  there  would 
follow  a  more  or  less  dull  and  inactive  state  which  the  tired 
nerves  demanded  in  order  to  recuperate.  This  weariness 
may  be  accompanied  by  irritability  of  temper,  which  has 
been  characteristic  of  some  devout  persons,  among  whom 
was  St.  Teresa.  The  high  tension  of  the  emotional  state 
produced  by  the  devoutness  of  the  sa.ints  during  worship 
inevitably  was  followed  by  a  reaction  and  concomitant  irri- 
tability when  relieved  from  worship  and  the  association  of 
those  who  surrounded  them. 

As  thought  advances,  emotionalism  declines;  reasoned 
action  takes  the  place  of  impulsive  action.  The  emotions  of 
to-day  are  of  a  milder  type;  men  are  care-worn  oftener  than 
melancholy;  jovial,  more  than  joyous;  sagacious  and  in- 
genuous, rather  than  meditative.  This  repression  of  the 
profounder  emotions  is  to  be  regretted,  but  must  be  taken 
into  account  when  we  attempt  to  compare  the  religion  of  to- 
day with  that  of  the  past,  or  prognosticate  concerning  the 
future.  So  intertwined  are  our  intellectual  and  emotional 
states  that  our  conceptions  of  Divinity  alter  our  feelings  to- 
ward Him  and,  moreover,  toward  our  fellow-men,  and  they  in 
turn  have  an  influence  on  our  conceptions.  Let  us  now  con- 
sider some  of  the  individual  emotions  in  their  relation  to 
religion. 

Among  those  who  have  delved  into  the  sources  of  religion, 
and  both  by  examination  of  primitive  religions  and  reasoning 
from  general  considerations  have  formed  conclusions,  fear 
seems  to  stand  out  prominently  as  a  cause  of  religious  reac- 
tions, but  not,  as  some  have  tried  to  demonstrate,  the  only 


EMOTIONS  375 

cause.  The  cause  must  have  been  as  complex  as  the  nature, 
but  on  the  other  hand,  the  impulse  to  self-preservation  must 
have  both  quickened  and  in  turn  been  stimulated  by  fear.1 
The  history  of  the  race  is  corroborated  by  that  of  the  indi- 
vidual, for  the  first  emotional  reaction  in  the  infant  is  that  of 
fear.  Of  course  the  speculation  and  deductions  concerning 
the  origin  of  religion  are  intensely  interesting  and  not  without 
profit,  but  as  religion  was  well  developed  before  Christianity 
was  introduced,  it  is  only  indirectly  of  interest  to  us  in  our 
present  inquiry. 

Fear  has  played  an  extensive  r61e  in  Christianity,  although 
its  founder  was  in  no  sense  actuated  by  this  emotion.  Per- 
fect trust  and  love  seemed  to  eliminate  fear.  We  must  rec- 
ognize, however,  that  He  did  not  represent  His  times,  for 
phenomena,  like  demoniacal  possession,  show  beyond  doubt 
that  the  people  were  far  from  fearless  in  their  religious  be- 
liefs. So  powerful  were  these  emotions  in  the  religious  world 
that  after  His  death  Christianity  was  soon  permeated  with 
fear,  and  only  later  years  have  been  able  to  eliminate  it. 

In  the  Dark  Ages,  fear,  stimulated  by  the  cruelty  with 
which  the  Roman  Church  endeavored  to  conquer  and  rule, 
seemed  to  be  one  of  the  chief  factors  in  the  general  religious 
life.  The  element  of  fear  was  not  eliminated  after  the  Prot- 
estant Reformation.  The  opportunity  for  relief  offered  by 
purgatory  was  removed  from  the  idea  of  punishment,  and 
nothing  but  the  inevitable  and  awful  mouth  of  unquenchable 
hell  yawned  for  the  sinful.  Were  men  given  a  chance  this 
might  not  have  aroused  such  fears,  but  the  predestination  of 
Calvinism  might  doom  anyone  to  this  fate  notwithstanding 
his  most  strenuous  efforts.     So  far  as  the  element  of  fear 

1  See  G.  T.  Ladd,  Philosophy  of  Religion,  I,  pp.  284-287;  J.  H.  Leuba, 
"Fear,  Awe,  and  the  Sublime  in  Religion,"  American  Journal  of  Re- 
ligious Psychology  and  Education,  II,  pp.  3  /. ;  T.  Ribot,  The  Psychology 
of  the  Emotions,  p.  309,  and  many  works  dealing  with  the  history  and 
philosophy  of  religion. 


376  EMOTIONS 

was  concerned,  it  was  rather  increased  than  diminished  by 
Protestantism. 

The  effect  of  fear  during  the  revival  period  has  already 
been  noticed  in  our  chapter  on  that  subject.  Up  to  the  time 
of  Finney,  at  least,  through  the  Wesleyan,  Edwardsian,  and 
Kentucky  revivals  we  may  well  say  that  it  was  the  prime  fac- 
tor of  the  preaching  and  of  the  reaction  of  the  converts.  The 
financial  fear  preceding  the  1857  revival  was  also  a  potent 
factor.  To  the  general  fear  of  hell  and  certain  local  and 
occasional  fears,  must  be  added  that  instinctive  fear  which  is 
always  liable  to  manifest  itself  in  a  crowd.  This  slumbering 
mass  of  inherited  instincts  and  feelings  may  be  awakened 
and  frequently  is  awakened  by  the  skillful  use  of  means 
which  the  revivalist  usually  employs,  and  for  a  time  there  is 
the  reversion  to  the  primitive  type,  so  that  a  wave  of  fear 
sweeping  away  individual  control,  engulfs  the  whole  audi- 
ence. Primitive  feelings  were  accompanied  by  primitive 
reflexes,  and  hence  there  appeared  the  physical  phenomena 
so  characteristic  of  the  early  revivals. 

In  Starbuck's  investigations,  over  a  decade  ago,  of  con- 
versions, many  of  which  are  now  a  quarter  of  a  century  old 
or  older,  only  twenty  per  cent,  could  be  assigned  to  self- 
regarding  motives  and  forces,  fourteen  per  cent,  of  which 
were  fears  of  death  and  hell.  Coe's  returns  showed  less  than 
eighteen  per  cent.  While  this  percentage  is  not  large,  I  doubt 
if  present-day  conversions  would  give  nearly  so  many  of  this 
type.  In  fact,  in  answer  to  a  recent  questionnaire  of  Professor 
Leuba's,  in  only  two  instances  did  fear  enter  into  the  re- 
ligious life,  except  "incidentally  and  fitfully."  In  both  these 
cases  fear  was  constitutional,  rather  than  religiously  inspired. 
Except  among  the  most  primitive,  and  probably  among 
Roman  Catholics,  fear  is  no  longer  an  influential  factor  in 
religion. 

It  is  true  that  this  is  a  great  advantage  to  religion  and  the 


EMOTIONS  377 

gain  will  be  more  and  more  recognized,  but  I  am  not  sure 
that  too  much  has  not  been  thrown  away.  While  arbitrary 
punishment  is  at  variance  with  all  that  we  know  of  God's 
dealings  with  men  either  in  nature  or  in  religion,  logical  pun- 
ishment is  not  only  consistent  but  certain.  All  sin  must  bring 
this  and  cannot  be  escaped;  and  while  hell  is  not  believed  in 
very  much  to-day,  the  awful  effects  of  sin  in  destroying  the 
higher  life  and  the  real  man  furnish  a  punishment  of 
which  there  is  no  doubt,  and  which  is  more  serious  in  its 
results. 

Professor  Leuba  gives  three  causes  for  the  decline  of  fear. 
It  should  be  noticed  that  these  causes  are  general  in  their 
application,  and  are  not  simply  applicable  to  religion,  i. 
Among  civilized  people  the  occasions  for  fear  have  greatly 
decreased.  The  pressing  dangers  to  which  man  in  a  primi- 
tive state  was  exposed  have  been  removed,  and  the  phenomena 
of  nature,  e.  g.,  lightning,  have  been  explained  and  partially 
mastered.  2.  Education  and  training  have  ministered  to  the 
control  of  emotions.  3.  The  fear  reaction  is  recognized  as 
inadequate  for  the  fulfilment  of  its  task.  The  physical  con- 
comitants of  fear  make  man  less  fitted  to  combat  the  danger 
which  inspired  the  emotion.  Several  modern  cults  have  rec- 
ognized this,  and  especially  the  "New  Thought"  movement. 
Here  fear  is  viewed  as  the  greatest  sin,  largely  because  it 
unfits  man  for  his  higher  duties.  As  a  propaedeutic  for  thera- 
peutic measures,  lack  of  fear  is  very  beneficial.  It  is,  there- 
fore, usually  connected  with  modern  mind  and  faith  cure 
cults.1  While  the  lack  of  belief  in  hell  and  God's  wrath  have 
undoubtedly  ministered  to  the  decline  of  fear,  this  lack  of 
belief  is  a  result  of  the  three  causes  already  cited  rather  than 
an  independent  cause.  Fear  in  religion  is  out  of  harmony 
with  life  in  general — the  highest  life. 

Closely  related  to  fear  is  awe,  and  developed  from  awe  is 
1 W.  James,  The  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  pp.  98  /. 


378  EMOTIONS 

the  feeling  of  the  sublime.1  While  all  three  of  these  emotions 
are  inspired  by  the  presence  of  the  mysterious,  the  great,  and 
the  superior,  in  the  fear  reaction  antagonism  is  manifested, 
and  a  feeling  of  shame  eventually  accompanies  it;  in  the  re- 
action which  we  know  by  the  name  of  awe  and  the  sublime, 
attraction  and  admiration  are  evinced,  and  a  dignity  and 
kinship  with  the  great  are  felt.  "Awe  might  be  defined 
arrested  fear  in  the  presence  of  objects  whose  greatness  is 
apprehended."  In  awe  the  distinctive  fear  reaction  is  about 
to  manifest  itself,  but  is  held  in  check  by  the  judgment  of 
lack  of  danger;  in  the  sublime  there  is  no  fear  activity 
awakened. 

So  far  as  any  emotions  may  be  called  disinterested,  awe 
and  the  sublime  must  here  be  classed,  and  in  this  respect 
they  add  a  valuable  factor  to  religion;  it  must  further  be 
recognized  that  as  such  they  are  not  religious  emotions,  but 
should  rather  be  classed  among  the  aesthetic:  they  become 
religious  when  man  perceives  back  of  the  object  the  superior 
and  controlling  force  to  which,  recognizing  a  kinship  in  some 
way  to  his  own  nature,  he  responds.  The  response  may 
either  be  through  the  indirect  means  of  reflection,  or  directly 
in  the  sense  or  feeling  of  the  divine  presence.  St.  Francis  is 
said  to  have  been  so  overcome  with  this  emotion  that  he  was 
unable  to  express  himself  in  prayer,  but  could  only  reiterate 
the  name  of  the  Deity.  Many  other  examples  might  also  be 
given.  Artificially  this  may  become  almost  if  not  quite  a  con- 
stant experience  by  the  so-called  "practice  of  the  presence  of 
God."  2 

Any  help  which  awe  and  the  sublime  may  render  to  re- 
ligion is  largely  disregarded  by  Protestantism  to-day.     In 

1  J.  H.  Leuba,  "Fear,  Awe  and  the  Sublime  in  Religion,"  American 
Journal  of  Religious  Psychology  and  Education,  II,  pp.  14-23;  G.  T. 
Ladd,  Philosophy  of  Religion,  I,  pp.  58  /.,  327-331. 

'  W.  James,  The  Varieties  oj  Religious  Experiences,  pp.  58-72; 
G.  A.  Coe,  The  Religion  oj  a  Mature  Mind,  pp.  234-242. 


EMOTIONS  379 

former  years  the  fearful,  awful,  and  sublime  were  cultivated 
to  some  extent.  God,  before  whom  men  could  only  stand 
with  unshod  feet,  has  given  place  to  a  familiar — too  familiar 
— friend,  who  inspires  no  awe,  or  sublimity.  The  awfulness 
of  the  sinner's  fate  and  of  the  Christian's  danger  have  also 
passed  away  among  most  Protestant  churches.  The  Roman 
Catholic  Church,  however,  has  retained  as  much  of  the  awe 
inspiring  as  the  times  will  permit,  and  endeavors  to  use  the 
sublime  as  much  as  possible.  Through  the  means  of  archi- 
tecture, music,  pageantry,  and  mystery,  these  emotions  are 
stirred,  and  as  a  result  reverence  and  veneration  are  not  so 
shockingly  lacking  as  in  some  Protestant  churches.  Our 
consideration  of  the  sublime  leads  us  in  two  directions: 
either  to  the  aesthetic  emotions  of  which  this  is  a  part,  or 
through  admiration  to  sympathy,  love,  and  the  more  tender 
emotions.    We  will  take  these  up  in  order. 

Perhaps  not  in  the  same  degree,  but  none  the  less  surely, 
all  of  the  aesthetic  emotions  may  be  cultivated  in  the  inter- 
ests of  religion.  Especially  is  this  true  when  we  consider  the 
beautiful  under  the  forms  of  the  orderly  and  free,  which  in 
extreme  cases  excite  the  feeling  of  sublimity.  When  through 
reflection  we  look  back  of  the  orderly,  we  see  the  Supreme 
Being  as  the  source  of  order,  and  when  we  reflect  on  free- 
dom, we  find  Him  also  to  be  the  ground  of  that  free  control 
which  is  the  root  of  all  harmony  and  law.  The  other  aesthetic 
emotions  may  likewise  be  of  service  in  religion :  we  may  best 
recognize  this  by  turning  our  attention  to  the  relation  of  art 
to  religion.1 

Art  and  religion  have  much  in  common,  especially  when  we 
consider  their  ideals  and  aspirations;  but  we  must  be  careful 
not  to  identify  them,  for  there  is  always  a  line  of  demarkation. 
It  is  in  the  sublime  that  religion  and  art  most  nearly  ap- 
proach each  other,  and  probably  the  feeling  of  dependence  is 

1  G.  T.  Ladd,  The  Philosophy  oj  Religion,  I,  pp.  435-453. 


380  EMOTIONS 

the  factor  of  the  sublime  where  they  most  nearly  coincide. 
This  is  especially  true  in  what  we  may  designate  the  moral 
sublime,  as  in  the  heroic  in  man,  which  caused  primitive 
people  to  deify  him.  Professor  Everett  defines  religion  from 
the  standpoint  of  feeling  as  follows:  "Religion  is  a  feeling 
towards  a  supernatural  presence  manifesting  itself  in  truth, 
goodness,  and  beauty."  "Why,"  he  says,  "is  it  that  beauty 
has  such  prominence  in  religion?  Because  religion  is  the 
feeling  toward  the  supernatural,  and  beauty  is  a  manifesta- 
tion of  the  supernatural  in  the  world."  '  Whatever  we  may 
think  of  the  first  part  of  this  answer,  the  second  is  undoubt- 
edly true.      *s 

In  the  feelings  of  mystery  and  appreciation,  and  in  the  en- 
thusiasm for  the  beautiful  in  deity,  we  find  common  sources 
of  both  art  and  religion,  although  differently  developed;  and 
in  the  symbolism  in  which  both  deal  we  find  a  further  con- 
nection. It  is  in  this  very  matter  of  symbolism  that  art  is  so 
helpful  to  religion.  Each  has  been  helpful  to  the  other,  if  in 
no  other  way  than  by  mutual  aspiration,  and  each  in  turn 
has  been  the  means  of  degrading  the  other,  but  chiefly  through 
their  wandering  into  by-paths.  On  the  whole,  however,  we 
may  say  of  the  past,  and  surely  as  the  ideal,  that  art  beauti- 
fies and  glorifies  the  concepts  and  worship  of  religion,  and 
religion  in  turn  inspires,  purifies,  and  elevates  art,  and  they 
are  complementary  in  the  higher  life.  This  has  been  mani- 
fested in  the  history  of  the  Christian  church. 

Among  some  psychologists  fear  does  not  stand  alone  as  the 
primary  religious  emotion,  but  is  coupled  with  love  in  the 
larger  sense,  i,  e.,  "tender  emotion."2  This  sympathy  or 
love  is  what  attracts  men  to  the  Deity,  while  fear  tends  to 
repel  them.    When  this  attraction  and  love  inspire  a  morbid 

1  C.  C.  Everett,  Psychological  Elements  of  Religious  Faith,  pp.  202 
and  208. 

2  T.  Ribot,  Psychology  of  the  Emotions,  pp.  263  and  309. 


EMOTIONS  381 

exaltation,  we  have  different  forms  of  abnormal  phenomena, 
such  as  ecstasy,  which  are  determined  according  to  the  mix- 
ture of  other  emotions.  The  mystics,  who  dwell  so  much  on 
this  one  factor  of  love,  are  examples  of  the  morbid  effects. 
They  have  generally  chosen  the  Gospel  of  John  as  their  favor- 
ite scripture.  Some  would  say  that  Mysticism  is  a  practical 
application  of  the  Gospel  of  John.  "Love,  as  St.  John 
teaches  us,  is  the  great  hierophant  of  the  Christian  mysteries." * 
Some  mystics  fail  to  come  up  to  the  standard  of  John,  for 
while  through  love  they  found  God  in  nature  and  in  their  own 
souls,  they  seldom  found  Him  in  the  souls  of  others.  Deeds 
of  charity  they  performed,  it  is  true,  but  real  communion 
with  others  was  foreign  to  them. 

Love  was  always,  however,  the  pathway  to  God  in  Mys- 
ticism. William  Law  is  quoted  as  follows:  "No  creature  can 
have  any  union  or  communion  with  the  goodness  of  the 
Deity  till  its  life  is  a  spirit  of  love.  This  is  the  one  only  bond 
of  union  betwixt  God  and  His  creature."  A  favorite  maxim 
with  some  of  the  mystics  was  that  "love  changes  the  lover 
into  the  beloved."  We  cannot  conceive  of  mysticism  among 
Christians  without  a  basis  of  love,  yet  some  used  it  more 
than  others,  and  the  definitions  of  love  would  vary  greatly 
among  different  schools  of  mystics.  With  some  there  was  an 
undoubted  sexual  element  in  it,  others  had  as  an  ideal  recip- 
rocal love,  while  with  some  the  only  worthy  kind  was  pure  or 
disinterested  love.2 

The  present  development  of  Christianity  through  the  in- 
fluence of  love  is,  in  some  respects,  unhealthful  if  not  patho- 
logical. It  shows  itself  in  lack  of  reverence  to  the  Deity,  who 
loves  us  so  much  as  to  be  very  companionable  with  us,  and 
consequently  the  true  spirit  of  worship  has  either  been 
eradicated  or  has  degenerated  so  as  to  be  hardly  recognizable. 

1  W.  R.  Inge,  Christian  Mysticism,  p.  316. 

2  W.  R.  Inge,  Christian  Mysticism,  pp.  234-242. 


382  EMOTIONS 

If  this  is  a  detriment  which  has  followed  the  emphasis  of  love, 
it  is  more  than  overbalanced  by  the  good  which  has  resulted. 

Christian  love  is  not  a  pure  emotion,  as  many  mystics  and 
others  have  supposed,  but  contains  other  elements,  especially 
of  will.  Hence  the  command  to  love  our  enemies  is  not 
meaningless  nor  incapable  of  fulfilment.  Love  is  expressed 
by  service,  and  finds  its  culmination  in  complete  self-surren- 
der to  God  and  self-sacrifice  to  man.  Some  of  the  saints 
have  searched  for  the  most  disagreeable  and  difficult  tasks, 
in  order  that  they  might  demonstrate  how  completely  all  con- 
sideration of  self  had  been  destroyed.  The  tortures  devised 
by  all  the  genius  of  asceticism  were  never  truly  selfish,  and 
however  abnormal  or  foolish  they  may  seem  to  us,  we  must 
recognize  them  as  an  imperfect  yet  purposeful  way  in  which 
men  tried  to  obtain  satisfaction  for  the  impulse  to  self-sur- 
render generated  by  love  for  the  Divine  in  obedience  to  His 
will  toward  men  as  interpreted  by  them.  Notwithstanding 
this  pathological  fruit  found  in  Christianity,  but  less  in 
Christianity  than  in  other  religions,  it  is  Christianity,  with 
its  teachings  of  Divine  fatherhood  and  of  redeeming  Divine 
love  as  shown  in  the  life  and  death  of  Jesus,  which  has  stimu- 
lated the  love  of  God  and  of  our  fellowmen,  and  brought  it 
into  prominence  as  religious  practice.  Whether  other  religions 
have  received  similar  teaching  through  the  influence  of 
Christianity  or  developed  it  independently,  it  has  never 
reached  the  high  plane  of  Christianity  either  in  principle  or  in 
practice. 

There  appears  to  be  an  organic  affinity  between  love  and 
joyousness.  The  two  are  concomitants  at  least.  Love  seems 
to  inspire  joy  and  joy  love.  In  the  ascetic  life  the  climax  of 
aspiration  was  the  combination  and  perfection  of  both.  In 
modern  Christianity  the  acute  stage  of  both  seems  to  be  at 
the  time  of  conversion.  If  it  is  true  that  religion  starts  with 
fear  it  is  equally  true  that  it  develops  towards  joy;  joy,  per- 


EMOTIONS  383 

haps,  because  of  deliverance  from  fear.    This  seems  to  be  a 
partial  explanation  of  the  conversion  joy,  coupled  as  it  is 
with  the  sense  of  perfect  trust,  and  consequent  loss  of  worry. 
The  joy  and  exaltation  are  probably  largely  responsible  for 
the  sense  of  newness  so  characteristic,  we  have  found,  of 
many  conversion  cases.     The  joy  in  conversion,  especially 
in  revival  conversions,  is  partially  due  to  suggestion.     Con- 
trasted with  the  fear  inspired  by  a  part  of  the  preaching,  is 
the  expectation  of  joy  which  is  proclaimed  as  an  immediate 
effect  of  deciding  to  live  a  life  of  righteousness.    In  addition 
to  external  influences  the  question  of  whether  there  shall  be 
depression  or  joy  depends  not  a  little  upon  the  individual 
temperament.    The  element  of  fear,  of  course,  brings  depres- 
sion, and  the  lack  of  decision  when  the  matter  is  to  be  settled, 
as  in  revival  experiences,  is  also  a  fruitful  cause  of  depression, 
together  with  the  dread  which  comes  from  the  uncertainty  of 
the  future.    In  pathological  cases  this  depression  or  sadness 
becomes  religious  melancholia,  in  which  the  emotional  state 
accompanies  the  insistent  belief  that  the  individual  is  guilty, 
rejected,  or  damned. 

In  some  cases  of  sainthood  we  have  a  strange  combination 
of  these  two  apparently  contradictory  emotions.  We  may 
call  it  the  joy  of  sadness  as  a  comprehensive  name.  St.  Pierre 
writes,  "I  know  not  to  what  physical  laws  philosophers  will 
some  day  refer  the  feelings  of  melancholy.  For  myself,  I  find 
that  they  are  the  most  voluptuous  of  all  sensations."  Marie 
Bashkirtseff  says,  "In  this  depression  and  dreadful  uninter- 
rupted suffering,  I  don't  condemn  life.  On  the  contrary,  I  like 
it  and  find  it  good.  Can  you  believe  it?  I  find  everything 
good  and  pleasant,  even  my  tears,  my  grief.  I  enjoy  weeping, 
I  enjoy  my  despair.  I  enjoy  being  exasperated  and  sad."  The 
biographer  of  Marguerite  Marie  says  of  her,  "Her  love  of 
pain  and  suffering  was  insatiable.  ...  She  said  that  she 
could  cheerfully  live  till  the  day  of  judgment,  provided  she 


384  EMOTIONS 

might  always  have  matter  for  suffering  for  God;  but  that  to 
live  a  single  day  without  suffering  would  be  intolerable." 
Madame  Guyon,  in  speaking  of  a  severe  storm  which  kept 
her  eleven  days  at  sea  while  sailing  from  Nice  to  Genoa, 
which  I  have  already  referred  to,  says,  "As  the  irritated 
waves  dashed  round  us  I  could  not  help  experiencing  a  cer- 
tain degree  of  satisfaction  of  mind.  .  .  .  Perhaps  I  carried 
the  point  too  far,  in  the  pleasure  which  I  took  in  thus  seeing 
myself  beaten  and  bandied  by  the  swelling  waters."  l 

This  love  of  suffering  may  have  been  extended  to  others 
and  have  been  a  factor  in  the  cause  of  the  cruelties  in  which 
some  of  the  saints  indulged.  However,  jealousy  of  the  De- 
ity's honor,  and  the  bursting  out  of  pent-up  emotions  which 
had  been  denied  their  natural  outlet,  are  probably  greater 
elements  in  the  cause.  Through  this  cruel  tendency,  Chris- 
tianity in  practice  has  been  a  continued  tragedy  instead  of 
a  love  feast.  The  Roman  Church,  especially  in  the  Middle 
Ages,  used  the  argument  of  the  sword,  the  fagot,  and  the 
gallows  to  make  converts;  and  those  who  refused  to  be  con- 
verted suffered  the  penalty.  The  Puritans  hanged  the  witches, 
and  both  Roman  Catholics  and  Protestants  have  turned 
against  Jews  and  infidels  with  fury. 

One  can  hardly  conceive  of  stronger  evidence  of  a  lack  of 
love  than  is  found  in  some  of  Jonathan  Edwards'  sayings. 
Take  that  passage,  for  instance,  in  "The  End  of  the  Wicked 
contemplated  by  the  Righteous:  or,  the  Torments  of  the 
Wicked  in  Hell  no  occasion  for  Grief  to  the  Saints  in  Heaven," 
where  he  says,  "When  they  have  this  sight  it  will  incite  them  to 
joyful  praises.  .  .  .  The  damned  and  their  miseries,  their 
sufferings  and  the  wrath  of  God  poured  out  upon  them,  will 
be  an  occasion  of  joy  to  them."  Or  take  the  words  of  An- 
drew Wellwood  when  picturing  the  future:  "I  am  overjoyed 

1  W.  James,  The  Varieties  oj  Religious  Experience,  pp.  83,  287,  and 
3™- 


EMOTIONS  385 

in  hearing  the  everlasting  howlings  of  the  haters  of  the  Al- 
mighty. What  a  pleasant  melody  are  they  in  mine  ears! 
O,  Eternal  Hallelujahs  to  Jehovah  and  the  Lamb!  O,  sweet! 
sweet!  My  heart  is  satisfied."  These  men  who  gave  expres- 
sion to  these  words  were  not  barbarians,  but  Christians  in 
high  repute  in  the  church.  Many  of  the  ascetics  have  taken 
too  literally  the  words  of  Jesus  about  hating  father,  mother, 
and  others,  and  have  had  peculiar  pleasure  in  causing  their 
loved  ones  the  most  bitter  sorrow  and  woe. 

There  is  a  related  group  consisting  of  humility,  depend- 
ence, resignation,  and  other  allied  states  which  cannot  be 
overlooked  even  if  we  are  not  able  to  devote  much  space  to 
them.  Considered  as  sources  they  are  not  far  removed  from 
fear,  and  probably  those  who  would  choose  fear  as  the  emo- 
tion on  which  religion  depends  for  its  origin  have  in  mind 
very  much  the  same  emotion  as  those  who  choose  depend- 
ence for  the  same  task.  Humility  does  not  consist  in  adver- 
tising one's  weakness  as  such,  but  depends  on  the  recognition 
of  the  infinite  distance  between  the  moral  or  religious  ideal 
and  the  state  which  the  individual  knows  to  be  his  own.  It 
has  been  a  cloak  for  inactivity,  but  genuine  humility  is  never 
that;  it  strives  to  bridge  the  gap,  however  hopeless,  between 
himself  and  Divinity.  Recognizing  the  greatness  of  God 
and  the  insignificance  of  the  individual,  two  states  may  re- 
sult: man  may  see  that  he  can  only  attain  his  ideal  by  the 
help  of  the  greater  power,  and  therefore  recognizes  his  de- 
pendence upon  God ;  not  without  striving,  but  on  account  of 
this  very  same  recognition  he  realizes  that  the  great  power  of 
foresight  and  knowledge  of  which  he  believes  the  Deity  to 
be  possessed  is  doing  for  him  that  which  is  best,  and  so  he 
becomes  resigned.  In  its  full  development,  resignation  is 
one  of  the  most  advanced  of  our  religious  states. 

There  are  other  affective  states  which  have  had  not  a  little 
influence  in  religion  and  upon  its  development.    Courage,  pity, 


386  EMOTIONS 

curiosity,  unrest,  social  feeling,  and  the  feeling  of  obligation 
have  all  had  an  important  place  in  Christianity,  and  still 
have.  We  must,  however,  curtail  and  leave  these  to  the 
further  investigation  of  the  individual  reader.  The  emo- 
tions concerned  with  worship  and  the  sexual  emotions  will 
be  considered  in  separate  chapters,  and  "Faith-state"  has 
already  been  presented. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

WORSHIP 

"The  plants  look  up  to  heaven,  from  whence 
They  have  their  nourishment." — Shakespeare. 

The  discussion  of  Worship  must  necessarily  be  incomplete 
in  this  chapter.  It  has  already  been  referred  to  in  our  dis- 
cussion of  Sex,  the  chapter  on  Prayer  takes  up  a  vital  factor 
of  worship,  and  Denominationalism  also  touches  our  subject. 
We  find  sufficient,  however,  outside  of  these  three  chapters, 
to  call  for  discussion  at  this  time. 

We  have  taken  up  this  subject  in  connection  with  the  study 
of  the  emotions  because  of  the  large  affective  element  in  it. 
The  sermon  is  supposed  to  be  instructive  and  therefore  of  an 
intellectual  character,  but  this  is  sometimes  a  gratuitous  sup- 
position. Apart  from  the  intellectual  factor  in  the  sermon 
and  in  an  occasional  hymn,  worship  appeals  principally  to  the 
emotions. 

During  the  life  of  the  apostles,  and  in  the  age  following, 
worship  was  the  spontaneous  expression  of  religious  feeling 
and,  therefore,  free  from  ceremonial.  This  continued  until 
about  the  end  of  the  second  century  when  worship  assumed 
a  merit  of  its  own  on  account  of  the  belief  that  it  was  an 
acceptable  service  to  God.  In  public,  Christians  knelt  in 
prayer  except  on  Sundays  when  they  stood  as  a  special  token 
of  joy.  Extended  passages  of  scripture  were  read  and  ex- 
pounded, the  sermon  developing  from  the  exposition.  In 
some  places  a  discussion  added  an  intellectual  element  to  the 
service.     In  the  Epistle  of  Clement  of  Rome  and  in  the 

387 


388  WORSHIP 

Didache  certain  forms  of  prayer  are  found,  but  their  use  was 
optional. 

In  the  description  of  the  Lord's  Day  worship  which  Justin 
Martyr  gives,  the  prayers  of  the  president  seem  to  be  extem- 
poraneous, but  the  prayers  of  the  people  before  the  eucharist 
were  evidently  fixed  in  form.  The  "Apostolic  Constitu- 
tions," a  book  written  before  the  end  of  the  second  century, 
contains  brief  forms  of  prayer  which  were  probably  in  use. 
In  the  Diocletian  persecution  there  is  no  record  of  the  search 
for  or  the  surrender  of  books  of  ritual.  That  does  not  mean 
that  forms  did  not  exist,  but  that,  on  account  of  the  secrecy 
surrounding  the  eucharist  and  other  ceremonies,  the  forms 
were  committed  to  memory  and  passed  on  in  this  way,  rather 
than  entrusted  to  writing. 

At  the  end  of  the  fourth  century,  on  account  of  the  marked 
division  of  times  and  places  into  secular  and  sacred,  worship 
became  little  else  than  forms  and  ceremonies — a  veritable 
round  of  arbitrary  observances  imposed  by  ecclesiastical 
authority.  Decorations  and  pictures  came  into  the  church, 
and  the  idolatry  which  soon  arose  among  the  ignorant  was 
condemned  by  the  church,  but  its  cause,  the  extravagant  vener- 
ation of  the  saints,  was  commended.  About  this  time  and 
later  numerous  liturgies  arose,  most  of  which  bore  the  name 
of  apostles,  without  any  claim,  though,  to  apostolic  author- 
ship.1 This  brief  resume*  of  the  beginnings  of  ceremonial  in 
worship  has  been  given  in  order  that  we  may  see  two  things : 
first,  that  it  was  a  matter  of  development,  and  second,  that  it 
ministers  to  a  psychological  need. 

The  term  "worship"  is  used  in  a  double  sense.  It  may 
mean  the  feeling  of  reverence  and  love  toward  God,  or  it  may 
mean  the  forms  by  which  this  feeling  is  expressed.  The  am- 
biguity and  confusion  in  this  double  meaning  is  escaped  in  part 
because  this  feeling,  if  at  all  intense,  must  express  itself. 

1  G.  P.  Fisher,  History  oj  the  Christian  Church,  pp.  65  /.,  116  f}.,  120. 


WORSHIP  389 

The  expression  may  be  in  an  elaborate  ceremonial  or  it 
may  be  by  putting  into  practice  what  our  feelings  impel 
us  to  do  in  the  way  of  social  service.  These  two  are  not 
mutually  exclusive,  yet  either  one  or  the  other  is  liable  to 
dominate  us,  and  the  lesser  experience  is  correspondingly 
eliminated. 

We  have  represented  here  two  types  of  mind,  and  all 
minds  are  composite — made  up  more  or  less  of  each  fac- 
tor. The  one  type  grasps  ideas  more  readily  when  aided  by 
outward  objects  and  symbols,  while  the  other  type  is  hin- 
dered thereby.  The  simple-minded  person  finds  it  hard  to 
contemplate  an  abstract  idea  without  some  concrete  object 
to  represent  it  on  which  he  can  fix  his  attention;  the  more 
abstract-minded  person  likes  to  shut  his  eyes  so  as  to  be  able 
to  think  more  clearly  and  without  distraction.  The  former 
type  depends  upon  ceremonial  for  his  religious  life,  the  lat- 
ter undervalues  or  dislikes  it.  The  dislike  may  be  enhanced 
simply  because  the  ceremonial  is  connected  with  religious 
things,  which  are  too  spiritual  to  be  associated  with  the  earthly, 
and  to  such  persons,  much  ceremonial  is  not  only  derogatory 
to  real  worship  but  may  be  actually  blasphemous.  On  the 
other  hand,  it  is  simply  because  of  the  spiritual  and  intangible 
quality  of  religion  that  others  find  the  ceremonial  so  helpful 
and  even  necessary. 

It  is  impossible  for  any  of  us  to  think  long  in  abstract 
terms,  and  in  spite  of  all  we  can  do,  spirituality  takes  some 
form  and  develops  a  body.  God  becomes  a  big  man  and  the 
throne,  the  symbol  of  earthly  power,  his  seat.  What  is  true 
of  the  use  of  the  symbol  in  our  thinking  is  also  true  of  the 
ceremonial  in  our  worship.  The  symbols  are  necessarily 
only  partial  presentations  of  the  truth,  yet  they  have  more 
effect  upon  the  mind  than  bare  abstractions.  Although  a 
map  or  a  picture  may  be  rough  it  is  of  some  value,  and  the 
parable,  as  used  by  Jesus,  for  example,  was  more  effective 


390  WORSHIP 

than  ethical  definition.  In  fact,  there  are  many  truths  which 
can  only  be  properly  expressed  through  visible  forms.  We 
know  that  historical  study  is  greatly  aided  by  maps,  pict- 
ures, portraits,  and  other  objective  means,  and  it  is  difficult 
to  understand  it  without  some  such  help.  Thus  the  personi- 
fication of  the  beauty  of  virtue  and  the  hideousness  of  vice  is 
helpful  to  those  who  find  it  difficult  to  comprehend  them  in 
an  abstract  way.  However  crude  the  form,  it  may  also  be 
a  great  aid  to  faith  in  keeping  the  object  of  faith  constantly 
before  the  mind  and  preventing  the  worshipper  from  forgetting 
it.  Unless  these  persons  or  ideals  in  which  we  believe  are 
frequently  thought  of,  faith  and  the  concomitant  spiritual 
life  deteriorates. 

The  Quaker  and  the  Ritualist  not  only  disagree  on  the 
subject  of  ceremonial,  but  they  are  usually  intolerant.  They 
not  only  have  different  ideas,  but  on  account  of  the  dissimilar 
types  of  mind  they  are  unable  to  appreciate  each  other's 
point  of  view.  This  is  especially  true  when  the  difference  is 
one  of  taste  rather  than  of  fact.  You  may  be  able  to  con- 
vince a  man  that  the  earth  is  round  rather  than  flat,  but  when 
you  try  to  convince  him  that  he  should  like  olives  and  dislike 
onions  when  his  taste  is  not  of  that  kind,  you  have  an  impos- 
sible task  to  accomplish.  He  simply  cannot  understand  why 
you  should  like  the  one  and  dislike  the  other  when  he  is  not 
thus  constituted.  There  is  the  further  disadvantage  that  not 
only  is  he  unable  to  understand  your  tastes  but  he  is  unable  to 
justify,  explain,  or  give  a  reason  for  his  own.  There  are, 
therefore,  no  controversies  so  bitter  as  those  of  taste  and 
feeling,  when  the  proper  attitude  seems  to  be  simply  to  agree 
to  disagree.  In  religion  there  are  historical,  legal  and  argu- 
mentative considerations,  but  these  may  be  adjusted  or  even 
ignored;  the  questions  of  taste  in  art,  difference  in  feeling, 
and  use  in  symbol,  the  questions  which  are  temperamental 
rather  than  general,  furnish  occasions  for  most  of  the  dis- 


WORSHIP  391 

putes.  The  forms  of  worship  vary  not  only  with  tempera- 
ment but  with  belief  and  custom. 

The  great  danger  connected  with  ceremonial  is,  of  course, 
the  liability  to  displace  the  Deity  with  symbol  or  form,  or  to 
make  fetishes  of  symbols.  The  more  rigid  and  unchanging 
the  form,  the  more  liable  is  this  to  happen.  It  is  curious,  yet 
none  the  less  true,  that  in  the  past  the  rigidity  of  form  has 
caused  more  dissensions  than  the  rigidity  of  creed,  and  either 
far  more  than  the  departure  from  the  moral  life  for  which 
the  church  stands.  The  causes  for  dissent  are  usually  in 
inverse  proportion  to  their  real  importance.  If  the  external 
forms  were  left  plastic  so  that  they  could  change  with  the 
growth  or  alteration  of  our  religious  experience,  their  value 
would  be  greatly  enhanced  to  the  cause  of  religion,  and  the 
great  injury  which  they  afe  capable  of  doing  would  be  pre- 
vented. 

The  Greek  Church  has  always  laid  much  emphasis  on 
the  form,  but  less  on  real  religious  life.  Even  in  the  churches 
where  religion  is  supposed  to  be  more  developed,  we  have 
been  surprised  to  find  insistence  on  form  and  external  devo- 
tion conjoined  with  a  notoriously  immoral  life.  The  trouble 
is  that  in  some  cases  worship  is  merely  a  matter  of  the  senses, 
appealing  through  external  objects  and  practices,  but  does 
not  involve  the  whole  man.  Religion  cannot  be  a  matter  of 
the  senses  only,  any  more  than  it  can  neglect  the  senses.  The 
aesthetic  nature  is  a  real  part  of  man  and  indeed  a  part  very 
closely  related  to  religious  ideas — so  closely  related  in  some 
cases  that  the  individual  is  unable  to  distinguish  between 
them.  In  the  early  religions  God  seemed  to  reveal  himself 
principally  through  the  sense  of  beauty,  and  to-day  we  may 
see  Him  more  clearly  in  beautiful  surroundings.  "It  is  pos- 
sible to  blaspheme  God  under  His  attribute  of  beauty  as  well 
as  under  that  of  truth  or  of  holiness.  And,  on  the  other 
hand,  we  may  worship  Him  under  this  attribute  no  less  than 


392  WORSHIP 

under  His  other  attributes."1  This  was  very  clearly  pointed 
out  by  Mr.  Ruskin  in  whom  real  worship  consisted  so  much 
of  this  one  factor.  To  stunt  the  growth  of  any  element  of 
real  manhood  is  opposed  to  true  religion,  so  we  must  make 
room  in  our  religion  for  the  development,  or  at  least  the  ex- 
pression of,  our  aesthetic  nature;  and  we  must  not  permit 
the  existence  of  a  separation  between  the  arts  of  expression 
and  the  religious  life,  to  which  the  Puritan  spirit  is  so  prone. 

Unfortunately,  among  Protestants  the  first  question  has 
been,  "Is  it  Roman?"  and  if  so  it  could  not  be  too  hastily 
excluded,  regardless  of  the  beauty  or  the  value.  The  primary 
inquiry  should  be,  "Is  it  legitimate  and  helpful?"  if  so  it 
must  be  retained,  for  not  everything  that  is  Roman  is  bad. 

Some  ceremonies  are  matters  of  custom,  habit,  and  taste, 
while  others  spring  naturally  from  the  part  of  the  service  to 
which  they  adhere.  There  is,  of  course,  a  presumption  in 
favor  of  that  which  is  old  and  widespread  in  the  church,  but 
a  distinction  should  be  drawn  between  the  correct  and  incor- 
rect adherence  to  traditions,  customs,  and  habits.  Ceremonial 
should  either  be  a  spontaneous  expression  of  feeling,  or  else 
the  form  which,  although  initiated  by  others  perhaps  cen- 
turies ago,  most  adequately  expresses  our  religious  emotions. 

On  account  of  the  reciprocal  relation  of  cause  and  effect 
it  is  not  easy  to  determine  how  far  unity  of  doctrine  and  feel- 
ing precedes  agreement  in  ceremonial,  or  to  what  extent  it 
follows  it.  Ceremonial  is  both  the  fruit  and  the  seed  of  the 
doctrine.  While  they  are  closely  related  they  are  really  in- 
dependent, for  while  two  persons  might  agree  in  ceremonial 
they  might  differ  in  doctrine  or,  on  the  other  hand,  agree  in 
doctrine  and  express  it  differently.  Since  the  feelings  are  so 
intimately  connected  with  the  external  impressions,  the  sur- 
roundings of  worship  are  therefore  a  school  of  emotion  and 
taste,   and   assist  or  detract  according  to  their  character. 

1  F.  Granger,  The  Soul  of  a  Christian,  p.  207. 


WORSHIP  393 

Perhaps,  though,  the  difference  between  the  Puritan  and  the 
Ritualist  could  best  be  reconciled  by  adopting  the  position 
of  the  former  for  private  worship,  and  of  the  latter  for  public 
worship,  for  worship  is  both  individual  and  corporate. 

"But  it  is  also  to  be  remembered  that  there  are,  in  reality, 
no  such  things  as  'mere  externals.'  Every  external  implies 
and  has  reference  to  something  internal,  and  must  be  esti- 
mated accordingly.  Ceremonial  is  an  external  because  it  is 
an  expression  of  an  inner  reality;  this  reality  is  often  of  such 
a  sort  as  to  baffle  expression  by  any  other  means.  Rever- 
ence, for  example,  is  more  eloquently  signified  by  the  publi- 
can's bowed  head  than  in  any  other  way.  Irreverence  is 
equally  signified  by  an  attitude  or  a  gesture.  No  other  method 
of  expression  could  be  so  expressive.  And  in  general  it  must 
be  urged  that  externals  are  not  'mere  externals'  but  things 
pregnant  with  importance,  because  of  that  state  of  mind 
which  they  signify  or  express. 

"Ceremonial,  again,  is  expressive  of  religious  truths. 
Sometimes  these  are  better  defined  by  a  gesture  or  a  symbol 
than  by  theological  definition.  Many  a  poor  sinner  can  ex- 
press his  trust  in  his  Divine  Savior  far  better  by  kissing  his 
crucifix  than  by  attempting  to  expound  his  conception  of  the 
doctrine  of  the  atonement."  ' 

In  dealing  with  the  subject  of  sex  it  was  indicated  that  the 
feminine  characteristics  were  exalted  in  church  worship. 
Beauty  rather  than  strength  has  been  sought.  Sermons 
must  abound  in  rhetoric  and  oratory  rather  than  in  rugged 
simplicity,  in  beautiful  descriptions  rather  than  in  logical 
thought.  Attractive  appearances,  fastidious  exactness,  good 
form,  and  conformity  to  social  rules  have  always  been  em- 
phasized. The  music  also  must  be  artistic.  All  the  elements 
which  tend  to  produce  emotion,  and  therefore  minister  to  the 
feminine  mind,  have  predominated,  and  ruggedness,  mas- 

1  W.  H.  Frere,  The  Principles  0}  Religions  Ceremonial,  pp.  11  /. 


394  WORSHIP 

culinity,  has  been  made  subservient.  Starbuck  found  that 
girls  express  a  pleasure  in  religious  observance  more  fre- 
quently than  boys  by  a  ratio  of  seventeen  to  seven,  while,  on 
the  contrary,  boys  express  a  distinct  dislike  for  it  more  often 
than  girls  by  a  ratio  of  twenty-one  to  nine.  This  throws  fur- 
ther light  on  the  sex  question  in  religion.  Men  like  a  femi- 
nine woman,  undoubtedly,  but  they  do  not  like  to  have  to 
express  their  masculinity  in  a  feminine  service;  they  do  not  like 
to  act  like  women  any  more  than  women  like  to  act  like  men. 

Hylan  x  presents  three  factors  as  the  legitimate  and  valua- 
ble elements  in  worship.  They  are,  i.  The  ideals  suggested 
by  the  sermon  are  the  important  part  of  worship,  but  sug- 
gestions of  artistic  decorations  and  the  service  as  a  whole 
assist  the  imagination  to  form  effective  ideals  of  conduct. 
2.  Feelings  play  a  more  primitive  role,  and  in  worship  proper 
they  form  the  necessary  motor  force  which  makes  the  service 
effective.  In  answer  to  the  questionnaire,  emotional  rather 
than  intellectual  effects  were  most  prominent.  The  religious 
emotions  may  be  so  intense  as  to  destroy  all  others.  3.  The 
expression  of  emotion  through  ritual  has  an  important  value. 
The  motor  expression  of  an  emotion  tends  to  keep  it  from 
merely  evaporating.  Feeling  without  some  expression  is  bad 
training,  for  soon  the  emotion  will  cease  to  be  a  motor  power. 
In  the  Lord's  Supper,  therefore,  we  have  a  good  illustration 
of  true  worship  in  first,  the  mental  content  of  worship,  second, 
the  emotional  accompaniment,  and  third,  the  immediate  ex- 
pression and  permanent  effect  of  the  first  two. 

The  religious  emotions,  in  common  with  all  emotions, 
may  be  divided  into  two  classes.  The  one  of  which  fear  is 
the  keynote,  consists  of  painful  and  depressive  states,  the 
other,  touched  by  tenderness,  consists  of  pleasurable  and 
expansive  states.2     Ceremonial  ministers  to  the  inciting  of 

1  J.  P.  Hylan,  Public  Worship,  pp.  65-88. 

2  T.  Ribot,  The  Psychology  0}  the  Emotions,  p.  324. 


WORSHIP  395 

both  classes,  and  they  should  express  themselves,  through 
the  developing  aid  of  worship,  in  the  moral  control  of  conduct. 
There  are  three  ways  in  which  public  worship  is  psycho- 
logically valuable  to  religious  development.  In  the  first 
y  place,  consciousness  is  controlled  and  directed  into  religious 
paths.  The  control  is  both  negative  and  positive.  The 
seclusion  of  the  church  supplies  a  condition  where  there  is  a 
lack  of  distracting  ideas  not  equalled  by  the  hermit's  cell; 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  architecture,  decorations,  music, 
social  influence,  and  a  developed  taste  for  worship  are  posi- 
tively attractive,  so  that  consciousness  is  not  only  not  dis- 
tracted but  is  held  by  public  worship  in  religious  lines  far 
better  than  in  other  ways.  In  the  second  place  there  is  a  col- 
lective suggestibility.  We  have  already  seen  one  effect  of  this 
in  our  study  of  the  crowd.  Whatever  suggestibility  there 
may  be  in  symbolism,  the  effect  is  greatly  heightened  by  the 
presence  of  others — the  emotional  stimulation  is  much  in- 
creased. The  third  point  is  this:  the  bodily  posture  con- 
nected with  any  feeling,  if  assumed,  brings  about  this  feeling 
or  tends  to  strengthen  it  if  already  present.  This  posture 
may  be  natural,  or  one  artificially  connected  with  the  emo- 
tion and  inculcated  through  training,  the  effect  is  the  same. 
The  hypnotized  person  shows  this  very  well.  Clench  his  fist 
for  him  and  without  further  suggestion  he  becomes  pug- 
nacious; in  the  attitude  of  shaking  hands  he  is  friendly; 
clasp  his  hands  and  he  prays.  Even  in  a  normal  state  it  is 
impossible  for  us  long  to  be  sad  with  the  corners  of  our 
mouths  turned  up,  or  to  be  cheerful  with  a  frown  and  an  ugly 
look— the  bodily  attitude  influences  the  emotion  and  the 
expression  reacts  so  as  to  heighten  feeling.  The  suggestion 
of  devotion  is  strengthened  by  the  attitude  of  prayer  and  by 
the  surroundings  which  we  have  all  associated  with  worship. 
The  favorable  influence  of  a  special  environment  is  a  great 
aid  to  real  worship. 


396  WORSHIP 

There  are  two  factors  of  worship  which  we  may  be  able  to 
deal  with  more  in  detail.  Especially  is  this  true  of  public 
worship.  In  Christianity,  public  worship  is  dependent  not 
a  little  on  the  observance  of  Sunday  as  a  day  specially  set 
apart  for  that  purpose.  How  the  idea  of  a  special  day  for 
worship  originated  we  do  not  know;  its  origin  is  hidden  in 
antiquity.  Hebrew  tradition  sinks  its  roots  in  the  act  of  cre- 
ation, and  makes  God  the  direct  originator  of  the  rest  (Sab- 
bath) day.  Among  primitive  people  there  is  evidence  of  its 
origin  being  centered  around  the  lunar  feasts,  the  full  moo^ 
the  new  moon,  and  hence  every  seventh  day. 

Whether  or  not  God  directly  instituted  the  Sabbath,  there 
is  no  doubt  about  His  originating  it  indirectly,  for  in  man's 
nature  we  find  the  true  reason  for  the  day.  Science  has  come 
to  the  aid  of  religion  in  demonstrating  this.  It  has  been 
proved  by  an  analysis  of  the  blood  and  in  other  ways,  that 
the  nightly  rest  does  not  provide  sufficient  recuperation,  and 
the  need  of  an  extra  day  occasionally  is  seen.  France  tried 
one  day  in  ten  but  found  it  insufficient.  The  testimony  be- 
fore the  British  Parliament  by  physicians  and  scientists  was 
to  the  effect  that  some  extra  days  of  rest  were  needed;  "to 
maintain  a  condition  of  vigor  a  supplementary  rest  of  about 
one  day  in  seven"  was  advised. 

In  answer  to  a  questionnaire  on  the  subject 1  a  large  pro- 
portion of  the  respondents  signified  that  rest  was  the  most 
important  factor  in  producing  a  Sabbath  feeling.  Rest  does 
not  mean  the  cessation  of  activity  but  rather  the  exercising 
of  functions  not  ordinarily  used.  The  joy  which  comes  from 
this  is  psycho-physical— the  use  of  unused  paths  to  discharge 
a  superabundance  of  accumulated  energy. 

The  early  Jewish  Sabbath  was  a  time  of  joyous  feasting 
and  merry-making  until  after  the  priestly  code  came  into 

1  J.  P.  Hylan,  Public  Worship,  pp.  15-45,  for  a  discussion  of  the  whole 
subject. 


WORSHIP  397 

effect  at  the  end  of  the  Babylonian  Captivity.  Then  there 
was  an  effort  to  please  God  by  manifold  rites,  and  by  sacri- 
fice, which,  together  with  the  sad  environment,  made  the  day 
funereal.  While  it  would  be  interesting  to  trace  the  develop- 
ment of  the  Lord's  Day  from  the  Jewish  Sabbath,  this  is  not 
our  province;  it  is  well  to  note  in  passing  that  the  early 
Christian  Sunday  was  joyous,  and  the  Puritan  Sunday  was 
an  unnatural  development. 

I  cannot  help  thinking  that  not  a  little  of  our  present  lack 
of  Sunday  observance  is  due  to  calling  the  day  "The  Sab- 
bath." Why  it  should  be  called  the  Sabbath  which  it  is  not, 
rather  than  Sunday  or  The  Lord's  Day,  which  it  is,  I  do  not 
know.  The  idea  of  the  Sabbath  is  that  which  the  Jews  held 
at  the  time  of  Christ,  dreary,  sad,  awful,  and,  of  course,  de- 
cidedly unattractive.  So  long  as  the  word  is  used  no  other 
interpretation  is  allowable,  for  this  is  the  idea  which  the  New 
Testament  distinctly  gives  and  the  Puritans  emphasized. 
The  idea  which  Jesus  presented,  in  contrast  to  the  dreary 
negation  of  Judaism,  was  that  it  was  lawful  to  do  good  on  the 
day,  and  if  the  resurrection  anniversary  means  anything,  it 
means  joy  and  happiness.  The  celebration  of  Sunday  should 
be  joyous,  and  if  this  were  understood  there  would  be  more  of 
a  tendency  to  the  religious  observation  of  the  day.  The 
present  desecration  is  due  to  a  reaction — a  natural  reaction — 
against  "The  Sabbath";  the  Lord's  Day,  the  Sunday, 
idea  contrasted  with  that  should  present  such  an  ideal 
that  men  would  welcome  it  rather  than  try  to  shun  it. 
Nature  demands  a  day  for  rest,  religion  demands  a  day 
for  public  worship.  "The  Sabbath"  cannot  furnish  such 
to  Christianity,  "Sunday" — "The  Lord's  Day" — is  our 
hope. 

Music  is  always  an  important  feature  in  worship.  Chants 
and  crude  songs  are  found  in  the  worship  of  the  most  primi- 
tive people,  and  musical  instruments  are  used  to  intensify 


398  WORSHIP 

and  emphasize  the  rhythm.1  Elisha  requested  the  minstrel 
to  play  that  he  might  prophesy,  and  when  the  minstrel 
played  "the  hand  of  the  Lord  came  upon  him."  In  the 
Christian  church  at  the  outset  the  music  consisted  mostly  of 
the  singing  of  psalms,  and  flourished  especially  in  Syria  and 
in  Alexandria.  It  was  both  choral  and  congregational,  but 
was  very  simple  in  its  character.  Pliny  describes  some  alter- 
nate singing  in  the  worship  of  Christians,  and  the  introduc- 
tion of  antiphonal  singing  at  Antioch  is  ascribed  by  tradition 
to  Ignatius.  In  the  third  century,  or  earlier,  the  anthem  of 
the  angels  (Luke  2  :  14)  was  expanded  from  the  Greek 
original  into  the  Latin  hymn,  the  Gloria  in  Excelsis  of  later 
date.2  We  find  that  hymns  were  also  used  to  counteract  the 
Arians.  About  the  twelfth  or  thirteenth  centuries  the  hym- 
nology  of  the  Latin  church  had  a  singularly  solemn  and 
majestic  tone,  and  was  inseparably  wedded  to  the  music. 
Its  cadence  was  musical  rather  than  metrical,  and  to  be  ap- 
preciated it  must  be  heard  and  not  read. 

We  notice  a  contrast  in  Protestant  hymnology,  especially 
at  the  time  of  the  Reformation.  The  characteristic  of  the 
Protestant  religion  is  the  free  and  joyous  spirit  inspired  by 
the  doctrine  of  gratuitous  forgiveness,  and  this  was  evidenced 
by  the  outburst  of  music  and  poetry,  especially  in  Germany. 
Luther  himself  published  thirty-six  hymns,  twenty-one  of 
which  were  original*,  and  music  made  a  corresponding  ad- 
vance. His  hymn,  "A  mighty  fortress  is  our  God,"  has  been 
called  by  Heine  "the  Marseillaise  of  the  Reformation." 
Since  that  time  the  church  has  never  been  in  need  of  great 
hymns,  but  unfortunately  there  is  a  tendency  at  the  present 
time  to  neglect  the  great  hymns,  and  to  emphasize  some  new 
sacred  song  with  poor  literary  form  and  worse  music. 

The  best  hymns  and  music  stimulate  religious  feelings 

1  J.  P.  Hylan,  Public  Worship,  p.  61  /. 

2  G.  P.  Fisher,  History  0}  the  Christian  Church,  p.  65. 


WORSHIP  399 

and  give  proper  vent  to  them,  so  it  is  needful  that  we  have 
the  best.  There  is  little  doubt  that  singing  is  a  very  popular 
part  of  worship,  and  is  sometimes  considered  the  most  in- 
fluential part  of  the  service.  The  reason  for  this  is  that  the 
hymns  are  the  most  direct  and  spontaneous  expression  of  per- 
sonal experience,  and  the  heart  throb  calls  for  and  receives 
a  response.  That  is  what  causes  hymns  to  live  longer  than 
creeds.  No  one  to-day  believes  the  same  as  the  psalmists, 
yet  their  hymns  of  milleniums  ago  are  still  fresh,  attractive 
and  valuable. 

Coe  has  given  us  an  analysis  of  Hymnology  and  Sacred 
Songs  from  the  psychological  standpoint.  Calling  attention 
to  the  fact  that  the  hymn  is  not  only  the  expression  of  emo- 
tion but  the  quickener  and  inspirer  of  emotion,  he  also  points 
out  that  hymns  should  be  of  such  a  character  as  to  inspire  all 
the  emotions  in  the  proper  proportion  to  develop  a  well- 
balanced  life.  An  examination  of  various  hymnals  proves 
this  to  be  anything  but  so.  The  tabulated  analysis  of  one 
hymnal  is  as  follows: 

' '  Number  of  hymns  in  the  entire  collection       .    1,117 
Number  of  hymns  on  Christ,  the  Christian, 

and  the  Church 608 

On  Life  and  Character  of  Christ,  Christian 

Activity,  and  Church  Work          .        .        .     144 
On  the  Life  Activities  of  Christ,  Christian  Ac- 
tivity, and  Charities  and  Reforms,  all  ob- 
jectively viewed  17 

"In  other  words,  less  than  twenty-four  per  cent,  of  the 
hymns  on  Christ,  the  Christian,  and  the  Church  have  to  do 
with  the  life  and  character  of  Christ,  Christian  activity,  and 
Church  work.  Again,  less  than  three  per  cent,  of  the  said 
hymns  on  Christ,  Christian,  and  Church  treat  of  the  life 
activities  of  Christ,  Christian  activity,  and  charities  and  re- 
forms in  an  objective  spirit.    Finally,  it  follows  that,  of  the 


4oo  WORSHIP 

entire  collection,  only  about  one  and  a  half  per  cent,  take  up 
the  practical  problems  of  the  everyday  activities  of  the  adult 
Christian  in  this  spirit."1  Now,  not  only  is  one  side  of  all 
lives  left  undeveloped,  but  some  temperaments  are  not 
ministered  to  at  all.  Our  great  need  in  hymnology  to-day  is 
a  number  of  hymns  on  social  goodness,  rather  than  so  many 
which  cultivate  sentiment. 

The  will  must  be  stirred  in  order  that  men  may  do  as  well 
as  feel.  In  an  examination  of  the  popular  revival,  prayer 
meeting,  and  Sunday  School  songs,  Coe  finds  that  "feeling  is 
still  in  the  ascendency,  but  it  is  of  a  mobile  and  superficial 
kind.  There  is  nothing  of  the  profound  emotion  and  stately 
movement  of  the  standard  hymn."  Thought,  composition, 
meter,  and  music  agree  in  deficiencies.  He  quotes  one  song, 
"Let  Him  in,"  beginning  "There's  a  stranger  at  the  door," 
which  is  characterized  not  as  the  worst,  but  as  one  of  the 
best  of  the  recent  revival  songs.  The  criticism  is  as  follows: 
"You  perceive  that  the  thought  and  composition,  especially 
after  the  first  stanza,  are  decidedly  patchy.  With  the  omis- 
sion of  two  'ands,'  the  second,  third,  and  fourth  stanzas 
could  be  read  in  inverse  order  of  the  lines  as  well  as  in  the 
order  given.  More  than  that,  leaving  out  the  last  two  lines — 
the  only  ones  having  any  obvious  rhetorical  connection — we 
could  take  the  remainder,  write  one  line  on  each  of  thirteen 
slips  of  paper,  shake  the  slips  in  a  hat,  draw  them  out  indis- 
criminately, and,  taking  them  in  the  new  order,  have  nearly, 
if  not  quite,  as  good  a  poem  as  the  one  before  us.  And  yet 
this  composition  is  probably  less  open  to  serious  objection 
than  the  majority  of  songs  of  its  class."  The  emotionalism  of 
most  of  our  hymns  is  such  as  ministers  to  youth,  but  that  of 
our  popular  revival  songs  being  characterized  by  an  appeal  to 

1  G.  A.  Coe,  The  Spiritual  Life,  pp.  225  ft.  See  also  C.  W.  Super, 
"The  Psychology  of  Christian  Hymns,"  The  American  Journal  0} 
Religious  Psychology  and  Education,  III,  pp.  1-15- 


WORSHIP  401 

the  mercurial  and  impressional,  ministers  more  to  childhood. 
The  hymns  and  songs  for  maturity  and  of  action  are  wanting, 
and  the  need  of  them  is  much  felt.  We  need  a  few  masculine 
hymns. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

PRAYER 

"We,  ignorant  of  ourselves, 
Beg  often  our  own  harms,  which  the  wise  Powers 
Deny  us  for  our  good;  so  find  we  profit, 
By  losing  our  prayers." 

— Shakespeare. 

No  religion  has  ever  been  known  which  did  not  contain 
prayer  in  some  form.  It  is  the  most  widespread,  reliable,  and 
important  factor  in  worship.  It  has  always  occupied  a  very 
noticeable  place  in  Christianity,  and  notwithstanding  the 
many  interesting  and  instructive  forms  found  among  other 
religions,  we  must  confine  our  attention  to  this.  To  ask  why 
men  pray  would  be  to  ask  why  men  are  constituted  as  they 
are,  for  it  has  proven  itself  to  be  a  universal  characteristic. 
In  some  way  it  ministers  to  a  psychological  need.  The  belief 
in  an  infinite  power  awakens  emotions  and  sentiments  which 
best  find  their  expression  in  prayer.  Professor  James  has  put 
it  very  well  in  the  following  words : 

"We  hear,  in  these  days  of  scientific  enlightenment,  a  great 
deal  of  discussion  about  the  efficacy  of  prayer;  and  many 
reasons  are  given  us  why  we  should  not  pray,  whilst  others 
are  given  us  why  we  should.  But  in  all  this  very  little  is  said 
of  the  reason  why  we  do  pray,  which  is  simply  that  we  cannot 
help  praying.  It  seems  probable  that,  in  spite  of  all  that 
'science'  may  do  to  the  contrary,  men  will  continue  to  pray 
to  the  end  of  time,  unless  their  mental  nature  changes  in  a 
manner  which  nothing  we  know  should  lead  us  to  expect. 
The  impulse  to  pray  is  a  necessary  consequence  of  the  fact 

402 


PRAYER  403 

that  whilst  the  innermost  of  the  empirical  selves  of  a  man  is 
a  Self  of  the  social  sort,  it  yet  can  find  its  only  adequate  Socius 
in  an  ideal  world."  1 

Ideally  it  is  the  fruit  of  the  filial  attitude  to  the  Supreme 
Power,  and  in  this  attitude  of  sonship  we  must  find  our  con- 
ceptions of  prayer  expressed,  however  imperfectly.  No 
more  than  in  the  earthly  family,  however,  may  we  expect 
the  expression  of  the  different  members  to  agree,  but  we 
must  be  prepared  to  find  it  vary  according  to  the  tempera- 
ment and  age  of  different  persons,  and  in  the  same  person 
according  to  circumstances.  If  this  filial  attitude  is  to  be 
truly  maintained  by  each  individual,  he  must  not  try  to  copy 
anyone  else,  not  even  those  who  have  "the  gift  of  prayer," 
but  endeavor  in  his  own  way,  and  in  a  manner  which  best 
expresses  his  own  religious  life,  to  come  into  personal  touch 
with  the  Father.  The  effort  may  be  crude  and  far  removed 
from  the  ideal,  but  if  personal  relationship  is  established  by 
any  man,  we  must,  therefore,  say  that  he  has  prayed.  "Its 
[prayer's]  human  analogue  is  not  petition,  but  intercourse 
with  a  friend.  Primarily  we  desire  such  intercourse  as  an  end 
in  itself,  simply  because  our  friend  is  our  friend,  and  the  fact 
of  converse  with  him  manifests  and  satisfies  our  friendship."  2 

Our  justification  for  prayer,  then,  is  intrinsic,  wrapped  up 
in  the  experience  itself,  and  not  dependent  upon  aught  else 
than  the  relationship  established  by  the  very  act.  It  therefore 
accomplishes  its  chief  end  by  its  mere  existence.  This  rela- 
tionship established  through  prayer  is  the  very  essence  of 
religion,  and,  as  has  been  pointed  out,3  it  distinguishes  relig- 
ion from  moral  and  aesthetic  sentiments.  This  intercourse 
between  man  and  the  higher  powers  with  whom  he  feels  him- 
self related  is  the  deepest  mysticism.    This  is  the  one  experi- 

1  W.  James,  Psychology,  I,  p.  316. 

2  J.  R.  Illingworth,  Christian  Character. 

3  A.  Sabatier,  Outlines  oj  a  Philosophy  oj  Religion,  p.  27. 


4o4  PRAYER 

ence  which  makes  mystics  out  of  all  persons  who  are  at  all 
religious;  but  in  this  mysticism  the  real,  vital  power  of  prayer 
consists. 

So  long  as  restrictions  in  form,  place,  and  media  exist, 
prayer  is  thereby  robbed  of  its  spontaneity,  mysticism,  and, 
therefore,  essence.  (  Repetition  in  prayer  is  a  hindrance,  as 
though  the  filial  relationship  could  be  established  by  me- 
chanical means.1  Yet  it  is  recognized  as  very  common  in  all 
religions;  there  is  a  belief  shared  by  all  sects  "that  the  bene- 
fits of  this  universe  are  to  be  secured  by  the  perfunctory  lip- 
service  or  barrel-service  of  human  beings."  2  "Prayer,  even 
among  Christians,  is  apt  to  degenerate  into  a  dull,  mechani- 
cal uniformity,  and  to  become  scarcely  less  perfunctory  than 
that  which  the  Thibetans  grind  out  of  their  prayer-machine."  3 

Restrictions  of  place  have  been  characteristic  of  most  re- 
ligions. Temples  and  special  holy  places  have  been  desig- 
nated as  the  particular  dwelling  place  of  the  Deity,  and  here 
men  came  to  meet  God,  feeling  that  nowhere  else  could  they 
communicate  with  Him  at  all,  or  at  least,  so  well.  Jesus 
sounded  the  death-knell  to  such  a  necessity  when  He  declared 
that  not  in  any  particular  mountain,  but  in  "spirit  and  in 
truth"  God  must  be  worshipped.  We  must  not,  however, 
disregard  the  significance  of  the  influence  of  certain  places 
where  men  have  habitually  prayed,  which  I  have  tried  to 
bring  out  in  the  chapter  on  Worship. 

In  regard  to  the  media,  let  me  quote  the  following: 

"Every  worshipper  may  go  directly  to  God,  with  the 
prayer  of  faith;  nor  may  any  man  intervene  as  an  indispen- 
sable, or  even  as  a  particularly  favored  medium,  between 
any  other  and  his  God.  At  the  same  time  the  power  and 
helpful  influence  of  associations  and  favorable  circumstances 

1  J.  Moses,  Pathological  Aspects  of  Religions,  p.  137. 

8  M.  D.  Conway,  Idols  and  Ideals,  p.  68. 

3  W.  H.  D.  Adams,  Curiosities  0}  Superstition,  p.  2. 


PRAYER  405 

cannot  be  neglected  by  any  form  of  religious  cult;  neither 
can  the  social  benefit  and  spiritual  assistance  which  the 
better  and  stronger  may  always  render  to  the  less  developed 
and  weaker  be  neglected.  For  disregard  of  the  one  and  neg- 
lect of  the  other  would  both  do  violence  to  those  very  psycho- 
logical characteristics  which  give  rise  to  the  necessity,  and 
secure  the  benefits,  of  any  religious  cult  at  all."  1 

Concerning  the  type  of  prayer  which  might  be  recognized 
as  a  universal  ideal,  I  can  do  no  better  than  to  quote  again. 

"But  the  form  which  is  called  after  his  name,  'the  Lord's 
Prayer,'  is  the  universal  type  of  all  true  prayer;  it  thus  em- 
bodies the  essential  features  of  the  ideal  religious  cult. 
For  it  expresses  the  attitude  of  filial  piety  as  a  perfect  confi- 
dence in  God,  the  Heavenly  Father;  as  sympathy  and  love 
toward  all  men  who  are  children  of  this  Father;  and  as  the  dis- 
position to  govern  one's  own  life  according  to  the  Divine  Will, 
in  a  constant  loving  trust  that  this  Will  for  us  is  best  for  us. 
This  prayer  is  the  perfect  expression  of  the  end  of  religion, 
attained  in  the  spiritual  communion  of  the  finite  Self  with 
the  Infinite  Self;  it  sets  forth  in  few  and  simple  words  the 
voluntary  relations  in  which  the  realized  content  of  faith 
places  the  human  life  to  the  life  of  God."  2 

If,  as  is  stated  above,  prayer  is  the  essence  of  religion,  a 
study  of  the  forms  and  contents  of  prayers  should  indicate 
the  nature  of  religion  at  any  time;  such  we  find  to  be  the 
fact.  Coe  has  pointed  out  that  we  spend  less  time  in  prayer 
than  did  our  fathers,  and  while  they  agonized  and  stormed 
the  celestial  gates,  we  are  less  confident  and  more  confused 
in  our  ideas  concerning  prayer.  The  confusion  and  change, 
he  thinks,  is  due  to  the  following  six  causes.  1.  Active  work 
rather  than  submission  is  the  keynote  to-day.  2.  The  per- 
nicious distinction  between  sacred  and  secular  is  becoming 

1  G.  T.  Ladd,  Philosophy  0}  Religion,  I,  p.  538. 

2  G.  T.  Ladd,  Philosophy  oj  Religion,  I,  p.  536. 


4o6  PRAYER 

obliterated.  3.  The  Fatherhood  of  God  is  being  more  em- 
phasized. 4.  Results  show  that  prayers  for  the  weather,  etc., 
are  ineffective.  5.  Prayers  peculiar  to  certain  temperaments 
have  been  exalted,  and  tears  rather  than  action  have  been 
preferred.  6.  Material  prosperity  makes  us  forget  prayer.1 
Whether  or  not  these  reasons  are  exhaustive,  they  are  at  least 
suggestive,  and  to  the  results  of  the  change  which  are  psy- 
chological, rather  than  to  the  cause  which  is  largely  theologi- 
cal, we  must  now  turn  our  thoughts. 

While  there  has  been  some  argument  against  the  practice 
of  prayer  at  all,  the  principal  protest  has  been  against  a  par- 
ticular style  of  prayer.  Some  think  that  men  should  rely  on 
their  own  efforts  rather  than  waste  their  time  in  prayer,  and 
would  advise  Christians  to  heed  the  words  spoken  concerning 
primitive  peoples.  "Thus  man  by  appealing  to  the  rain-god, 
instead  of  using  scientific  means  to  promote  rain-fall  or  to 
supply  the  lack  of  irrigation,  has  hindered  his  development 
for  centuries." 2  The  great  weight  of  objection  has  not  been 
against  prayer  as  communion,  but  against  prayer  as  petition. 

"The  world  is  to  be  made  over  into  the  kingdom  of  Christ, 
not  by  the  easy  way  of  begging  the  Almighty  to  do  the  work, 
but  by  the  vastly  harder  way  of  doing  it  ourselves.  The 
effectiveness  of  prayer  does  not  consist  in  inducing  God  to 
do  something,  but  at  most,  in  removing  obstacles  that  tend 
to  defeat  his  loving  purpose.  Prayer  is  not  merely  means  to 
an  end,  but  its  end  is  in  itself.  What  we  must  do  is  to  make 
God  end  and  not  means.  The  simple  believer  who  asks  that 
he  may  have  rain  for  his  wheat-field,  truly  prays.  His  pray- 
ing will  not  alter  the  order  of  nature,  in  which  rain  has  its 
place,  but  through  his  prayer  he  assumes  a  relation  of  con- 
scious dependence  and  trust  toward  God,  and  rightly  assumes 

1  G.  A.  Coe,  The  Religion  of  a  Mature  Mind,  pp.  329-342. 
2H.  M.  Stanley,  "The  Psychology  of  Religion,"  Psychological  Re- 
view, V,  p.  254. 


PRAYER  407 

that  God  is  interested  in  wheat."  !  Taking  as  a  text  the  fu- 
tility of  prayer  regarding  the  weather,  and  quoting  many  ex- 
amples of  the  failure  of  such  prayers  to  accomplish  results, 
a  sermon  may  be  preached  in  which  the  petitional  element 
in  prayer  is  relegated  to  the  scrap  heap. 

Few,  perhaps,  would  assign  the  power  of  regulating  the 
weather  which  was  comparatively  recently  attributed  to  a 
Boston  clergyman.  "The  minister  at  Sudbury,  being  at  the 
Thursday  lecture  at  Boston,  heard  the  officiating  clergyman 
praying  for  rain.  As  soon  as  the  service  was  over  he  went  to 
the  petitioner  and  said,  'You  Boston  ministers,  as  soon  as  a 
tulip  wilts  under  your  windows,  go  to  church  and  pray  for 
rain,  until  all  Concord  and  Sudbury  are  under  water.'"2 
On  the  other  hand,  very  few  wish  to  be  confined  to  the  theory 
of  a  mechanism  which  leaves  even  the  Almighty  no  freedom. 
But  even  in  such  a  machine,  prayer — petitional  prayer — has 
a  place. 

"Even  the  most  strictly  mechanical  view  of  the  world- 
order  must  admit  that  prayer  may,  under  certain  circum- 
stances, have  an  important  effect  in  modifying  the  course  of 
physical  events.  Indeed,  within  certain  limits  not  easy  to  be 
fixed,  the  more  strict  and  minute  the  tenure  of  the  principle 
of  mechanism,  the  more  sure  and  widespreading  becomes 
the  physical  influence  of  the  subjective  attitude  of  prayer. 
Taken  in  its  strictest  form,  the  mechanical  conception  re- 
gards the  Cosmos  as  a  totality,  including  all  of  man's  life, 
which  is  so  sensitive  throughout  the  whole  to  every  slightest 
change  in  every  minutest  part,  that  ceaseless  and  boundless 
vibrations  proceed  from  every  finger  point,  no  matter  how 
delicate  its  touch  may  seem  to  be.  Especially  does  this  con- 
ception connect  together,  in  terms  of  some  comprehensive 

1  G.  A.  Coe,  The  Religion  oj  a  Mature  Mind,  pp.  331,  337,  341,  353, 
and  357. 

*  R.  W.  Emerson,  Lectures  and  Biographical  Sketches,  p.  363. 


4o8  PRAYER 

theory  of  relations,  all  the  phenomena  of  human  conscious- 
ness and  certain  correlated  changes  in  the  bodily  mechanism. 
No  more  interior,  unheard  whisper,  or  even  muttered  thought, 
of  a  prayer  could,  then,  fail  of  its  record  in  some  correspond- 
ing physical  event.  .  .  .  The  same  Being  of  the  World  which 
expresses  its  will  in  souls  as  the  conscious  attitude  of  prayer, 
is  expressing  the  same  will  in  countless,  unknown  other  ways, 
throughout  its  own  entire  being."  ' 

If  we  may  make  a  place  in  our  system  for  the  freedom  of 
man,  then  we  open  a  gap  which  might  allow  of  some  freedom 
to  God,  if  for  no  other  end  than  to  pursue  His  strict  purpose 
which  man's  freedom  may  have,  to  some  extent,  disar- 
ranged, or  to  assist  man  in  freely  conforming  to  this  pur- 
pose. However,  we  must  allow  the  theologians  and  philoso- 
phers to  arrange  the  possibility  of  such  freedom,  and  trust 
that  their  permission  may  not  be  withheld. 

In  answer  to  a  questionnaire  regarding  the  results  of 
prayer,2  83  per  cent,  of  the  respondents  thought  the  results 
wholly  subjective,  12  per  cent,  thought  them  both  subjective 
and  objective,  and  but  5  per  cent,  considered  them  mostly 
objective.  A  large  number  of  the  respondents  to  another 
questionnaire  3  seem  to  be  sure  of  the  two-sidedness  of  prayer 
and  say,  "I  pray  because  God  hears."  Even  a  large  number 
of  persons  who  are  theoretically  sceptical  state  that  they  be- 
lieve that  God  does  send  things  .  Nearly  70  per  cent,  of  Beck's 
respondents  say  that  they  feel  the  presence  of  a  higher  power, 
while  in  the  act  of  prayer,  and  this  feeling  of  the  presence  of 
God  is  very  real  to  some  persons  at  such  times.  I  have 
already  noted  that  at  one  time  St.  Francis  tried  to  pray,  but 
so  great  was  the  sense  of  the  presence  of  God  that  until 

1  G.  T.  Ladd,  Philosophy  0}  Religion,  II,  pp.  377  /. 

2  F.  O.  Beck,  "Prayer:  A  Study  in  its  History  and  Psychology,"  The 
American  Journal  0}  Religious  Psychology  and  Education,  II,  p.  119. 

4  J.  B.  Pratt,  The  Psychology  oj  Religious  Belie},  p.  273. 


PRAYER  409 

daybreak  he  could  do  nothing  but  reiterate  the  words,  "  My 
God!  My  God!"  Almost  every  answer  to  Beck's  questions 
feels  the  manifestation  of  unusual  power  which  gives  ability 
to  accomplish  ends,  but  75  per  cent,  are  very  positive  in  their 
conviction  that  it  is  always  a  mistake  to  pray  for  a  change 
in  the  weather.  The  other  25  per  cent,  have  a  variety  of 
convictions  or  none  at  all. 

The  consensus  of  opinion,  both  scientific  and  general, 
seems  to  be  that  prayer  has  real  subjective  value,  but  does 
not  bring  about  objective  results.1  Of  the  former  contention 
there  seems  to  be  little  doubt.  Men  agree  in  the  statement 
that  in  and  by  prayer  they  receive  strength,  insight,  comfort, 
and  peace.  We  must  take  the  testimony  of  individuals  for 
this,  and  this  testimony  is  almost  unanimous.  For  example, 
take  the  following : 

"Times  without  number,  in  moments  of  supreme  doubt, 
disappointment,  discouragement,  unhappiness,  a  certain 
prayer  formula,  which  by  degrees  has  built  itself  up  in  my 
mind,  has  been  followed  in  its  utterance  by  a  quick  and  as- 
tonishing relief.  Sometimes  doubt  has  been  transferred  into 
confident  assurance,  mental  weakness  utterly  routed  by 
strength,  self-distrust  changed  into  self-confidence,  fear  into 
courage,  dismay  into  confident  and  brightest  hope.  These 
transitions  have  sometimes  come  by  degrees — in  the  course, 
let  us  say,  of  an  .hour  or  two;  at  other  times  they  have  been 
instantaneous,  flashing  up  in  brain  and  heart  as  if  a  powerful 
electric  stroke  had  cleared  the  air."  2 

Even  if  these  and  similar  effects  are  admitted  our  main 
problem  of  the  efficacy  of  prayer  yet  remains.  Let  me 
state  it  in  the  words  of  Mr.   Beck.     "The  experimental 

1  Compare  D.  S.  Hill,  "The  Education  and  Problems  of  the  Protestant 
Ministry,"  American  Journal  oj  Religious  Psychology  and  Education, 
II,  pp.  227  /. 

2  Unbekannt,  "The  Art  of  Prayer,"  Outlook,  LXXXIII,  pp.  857  /. 


4io  PRAYER 

method  cannot  completely  solve  the  question  as  to  whether 
the  answer  to  a  petition  comes  from  a  superior  force  of  energy 
(God),  as  cause  and  effect,  or  is  but  the  reflex  effort  upon  the 
one  who  prays.  It  would  require  the  testimony  of  God  to 
establish  this  beyond  a  perad venture."  1  For  a  number  of 
years  it  has  seemed  evident  that  the  factor  which  would  have 
most  influence  in  eliminating  God  from  the  position  of  the 
direct  answerer  of  prayer  was  the  study  of  the  subsconscious- 
ness,  and  I  have  expected  a  full  treatise  by  someone  on  the 
subject.  It  has  come,  partially  at  least,  from  the  pen  of  Miss 
Strong.2  Some  further  suggestions  have  also  been  made 
along  the  line  of  reflex  answer  to  prayer.3  The  following  is 
an  epitome  of  the  conclusions  of  these  articles. 

The  idea  of  God,  dominating  consciousness  and  bringing 
all  thoughts  and  desires  into  captivity  to  itself,  is  capable  of 
giving  a  peculiar  satisfaction.  The  adoration  of  God,  i.  e., 
the  aesthetic  contemplation  of  God,  is  a  constant  factor  of 
most  prayers,  and  brings  peace  and  quiet  by  doing  away  with 
some  of  the  distressing  conditions  of  mental  activity.  The 
idea  of  God,  being  a  counterpart  of  man's  aspirations  after 
the  ideal,  produces  a  positive  pleasure  when  dominating  con- 
sciousness, because  man  is  thereby  enabled  to  reach  his  ideal. 
Beck  found  prayer  to  be  largely  the  result  of  habit,  and  in 
habitual  actions  there  is  a  release  of  tension  which  brings 
about  peace.  P.  Brooks  defined  prayer  as  "the  complete  rest 
of  the  life  of  man  upon  the  life  of  God."  If  this  state  can  be 
attained,  relaxation  and  peace  must  follow.  The  feeling  of 
strength  and  power  which  often  follows  prayer  is  due  "to  the 

1  F.  O.  Beck,  "Prayer:  A  Study  in  its  History  and  Psychology,"  The 
American  Journal  of  Religious  Psychology  and  Education,  II,  p.  121. 

2  A.  L.  Strong,  "The  Relation  of  the  Subconscious  to  Prayer,"  The 
American  Journal  0}  Religious  Psychology  and  Education,  II,  pp. 
160-167. 

3  S.  W.  Ransom,  "Studies  in  the  Psychology  of  Prayer,"  The  Ameri- 
can Journal  0}  Religious  Psychology  and  Education,  I,  pp.  129-142. 


PRAYER  411 

recuperation  of  the  mental  faculties  under  the  relieved  ten- 
sion, and  partly  to  the  removal  by  suggestion  of  all  inhibiting 
ideas  and  the  consequent  ease  of  action  along  habitual  lines 
in  the  carrying  out  of  the  one  habitual  idea."  Prayer  for 
specific  virtues  or  special  blessings  for  self  is  often  productive 
of  results.  The  effects  are  due  to  auto-suggestion.  Sudden 
happiness  so  often  felt  is  due  to  the  relief  of  conscious  tension 
and  falling  back  upon  the  subconscious  organization.  When 
we  give  up  the  struggle  and  pray  and  relax,  we  give  the  sub- 
consciousness a  chance  to  work,  and  extra  normal  mentality 
is  the  result.    Miss  Strong  concludes  as  follows : 

"The  laws  of  mental  procedure  are  not  all  discovered  yet. 
Until  they  are,  the  last  word  has,  of  course,  not  been  said 
with  regard  to  either  'objective'  or  subjective  'answers'  to 
prayer.  Yet  the  percentage  of  yet  unexplained  cases  is  so 
small  that  it  seems  fair  to  assume  that  in  time  all  answers  to 
prayer  will  be  seen  to  come  as  the  result  of  definite  psychic 
laws  and  that  many  of  these  laws  will  be  those  which  are 
peculiarly  appropriate  to  subconscious  activities.  The 
prayer-attitude  is  a  definite  psychic  state  and  has  its  natural 
psychic  consequents.  Its  value  for  the  higher  life  of  the  in- 
dividual is  rather  increased  than  diminished  by  the  discovery 
of  its  laws.  And  the  psychologist  would  agree  with  the  re- 
ligious leader  in  holding  that  this  value  lies  not  in  the  specific 
phrases  of  prayer,  but  in  its  more  general  aspects,  as  meditation 
and  relaxation  and  in  the  peace  and  unification  of  aim  re- 
sulting therefrom.  'We  have,'  to  quote  James,  'in  the  fact 
that  the  conscious  person  is  continuous  with  a  wider  self 
through  which  saving  experiences  come,  a  positive  content  of 
religious  experience  which,  it  seems  to  me,  is  literally  and 
positively  true,  as  far  as  it  goes.  The  practical  needs  of  re- 
ligion are  met  by  this  belief.'  Least  of  all  has  the  immanental 
view  of  theology  any  quarrel  to  make  with  psychology  for 
finding  the  answer  to  prayer  in  our  own  wider  self.     And 


4i2  PRAYER 

taken  in  connection  with  an  idealistic  view  of  philosophy, 
the  conception  of  prayer  and  its  relation  to  the  subconscious 
assumes  a  meaning  much  more  vitally  religious  and,  per- 
haps, much  more  in  accord  with  the  common  conception  of 
prayer  than  appears  from  the  bare  discussion  of  its  psychol- 
ogy." 

Before  commenting  on  this,  let  us  turn  to  another  province 
of  subconscious  activity  which  has  been  already  brought  out 
in  our  study  of  Stigmatization,  Faith  Cure,  etc.  In  our 
chapter  on  Faith  Cure  we  reserved  the  question  concerning 
the  efficacy  of  prayer  in  disease  until  this  time,  and  we  must 
now  take  it  up.  At  the  1905  annual  meeting  of  the  British 
Medical  Association,  Dr.  Theodore  B.  Hyslop,  Superintend- 
ent of  Bethlem  Royal  Hospital,  a  specialist  in  neurology 
and  in  the  treatment  of  mental  diseases,  said,  "As  an  alienist 
and  one  whose  whole  life  has  been  concerned  with  the  suf- 
ferings of  the  mind,  I  would  state  that  of  all  hygienic  meas- 
ures to  counteract  disturbed  sleep,  depressed  spirits,  and  all 
the  miserable  sequels  of  a  distressed  mind,  I  would  undoubt- 
edly give  the  first  place  to  the  simple  habit  of  prayer.  .  .  . 
Let  there  but  be  a  habit  of  nightly  communion,  not  as  a 
mendicant  or  repeater  of  words  more  adapted  to  the  tongue 
of  a  sage,  but  as  an  humble  individual  who  submerges  or 
asserts  his  individuality  as  an  integral  part  of  a  greater  whole. 
Such  a  habit  does  more  to  clean  the  spirit  and  strengthen  the 
soul  to  overcome  mere  incidental  emotionalism  than  any  other 
therapeutic  agent  known  to  me  "  1  Notwithstanding  the 
weight  of  authority  which  might  be  accumulated  along  this 
line,  the  objection  might  well  be  made  that  this  is  not  essen- 
tially different  from  the  cases  already  cited  of  the  cure  of 
doubt,  discouragement,  etc.,  but  that  insanity  is  simply  an 
exaggeration  of  such  conditions.  We  must  look  at  the  more 
distinctively  bodily  ills. 

1  "A  Medical  Estimate  of  Prayer,"  Editorial,  Outlook,  LXXXI,  p.  no. 


PRAYER  413 

"  As  regards  prayer  for  the  sick,  if  any  medical  fact  can  be 
considered  to  stand  firm,  it  is  that  in  certain  environments 
prayer  may  contribute  to  recovery,  and  should  be  encouraged 
as  a  therapeutic  measure.  Being  a  normal  factor  of  moral 
health  in  the  person,  its  omission  would  be  deleterious."  ' 
This  may  be  predicated  of  prayer,  regardless  of  the  form  of 
the  disease.  I  do  not  mean  by  this,  however,  that  a  cure  will 
be  made  regardless  of  the  disease,  but  that  the  liability  of 
cure  is  greater  regardless  of  the  disease.  Absence  of  worry, 
cheerfulness,  and  hopefulness  are  valuable  therapeutic  aids, 
and  the  confident  expectation  of  a  cure  is  incomparable 
medicine.  From  a  therapeutic  standpoint,  any  physician 
would  far  rather  have  a  praying  patient  whose  life  corre- 
sponds with  his  prayers  than  one  who  gives  not  this  assist- 
ance. Science  recognizes  the  value  of  prayer,  and  further 
recognizes  that  this  value  is  concerned  in  some  way  with  the 
subconsciousness.  We  may  now  state  our  problem  again. 
All  the  subjective  value  of  prayer  is  of  subconscious  origin. 
Does  it  come  about  simply  through  the  general  psychological 
laws  on  account  of  a  certain  attitude  of  mind  of  the  individual 
who  prays,  or  is  there  a  special  and  direct  answer  on  the  part 
of  God? 

It  will  be  remembered  that  I  have  already  opined  that  if 
God  works  directly  through  and  on  the  individual  He  works 
through  the  subconsciousness.  This,  of  course,  is  only  a  theory 
and  the  necessity  of  the  theory  is  conditioned  by  an  "if" — a 
large  "if"  some  would  say.  "We  must  look  upon  natural 
law  as  simply  God's  way  of  doing  things,  and  invariable  be- 
cause his  intelligence  and  his  purpose  change  not."  2  Let  us 
for  the  time  admit  this,  are  we  yet  so  familiar  with  every 
phase  of  natural  law  that  we  can  definitely  say  that  God's 
working  through  the  subconsciousness  is  not  a  part  of  this 

1  W.  James,  The  Varieties  0}  Religious  Experience,  p.  463. 

2  G.  A.  Coe,  The  Religion  0}  a  Mature  Mind,  p.  352. 


4i4  PRAYER 

same  natural  law?  Can  we  say  that  this  is  an  infraction  of 
natural  law?  May  we  not,  on  the  other  hand,  say  that  it 
conforms  to  some  psychic  laws,  e.  g.,  influence,  suggestion, 
etc.,  and  conserves  rather  than  infringes  on  natural  law?  I 
am  simply  asking  questions  in  order  to  leave  an  opening  for 
such  as  are  assured  of  a  direct  answer  in  a  subjective  way. 
We  may  have  a  machine  which  does  a  certain  work.  By  the 
product  we  cannot  always  be  sure  whether  man-power, 
horse-power,  steam-power,  or  electric-power  is  used.  It 
makes  no  difference  to  the  working  of  the  machine  and  little 
difference  in  the  product.  In  the  bodily  machine,  where  the 
power  is  applied  by  both  in  the  same  place,  the  subcon- 
sciousness, it  may  be  difficult  to  determine  whether  man- 
power or  God-power  is  used,  and  if  the  machine  feels  the  dif- 
ference and  can  distinguish,  its  testimony  must  be  taken. 
The  only  test  between  these  two  which  can  be  objectively 
made  is  in  the  permanency  and  thoroughness  of  the  re- 
sults. 

That  there  is  something  more  at  stake  than  a  simple  choice 
of  theory  may  be  inferred  from  the  following : 

"The  genuineness  of  religion  is  thus  indissolubly  bound 
up  with  the  question  whether  the  prayerful  consciousness  be 
or  be  not  deceitful.  The  conviction  that  some  thing  is  gen- 
uinely transacted  in  this  consciousness  is  the  very  core  of  re- 
ligion. As  to  what  is  transacted,  great  differences  of  opinion 
have  prevailed.  .  .  .  Through  prayer,  religion  insists,  things 
which  cannot  be  realized  in  any  other  manner  come  about : 
energy  which  but  for  prayer  would  be  bound,  is  by  prayer 
set  free  and  operates  in  some  part,  be  it  objective  or  sub- 
jective, of  the  world  of  facts." 

"  The  fundamental  religious  point  is  that  in  prayer,  spiritual 
energy,  which  otherwise  would  slumber,  does  become  active, 
and  spiritual  work  of  some  kind  is  effected  really." 

The  conclusion  is  "that  prayer  or  inner  communion  with 


PRAYER 


4i5 


the  spirit  thereof— be  that  spirit '  God'  or  'law'— is  a  process 
wherein  work  is  really  done,  and  spiritual  energy  flows  in 
and  produces  effects,  psychological  or  material,  within  the 
phenomenal  world." 

"The  appearance  is  that  in  this  phenomenon  [prayerful 
communion]  something  ideal,  which  in  one  sense  is  part  of 
ourselves  and  in  another  sense  is  not  ourselves,  actually  ex- 
erts an  influence,  raises  our  centre  of  personal  energy,  and 
produces  regenerative  effects  unattainable  in  other  ways."  ! 

Or  take  the  following : 

"Prayer  is  the  general  name  for  that  attitude  of  open 
and  earnest  expectancy.  If  we  then  ask  to  whom  to  pray, 
the  answer  (strangely  enough)  must  be  that  that  does  not 
much  matter.  The  prayer  is  not,  indeed,  a  purely  subjective 
thing; — it  means  a  real  increase  in  intensity  of  absorption  of 
spiritual  power  or  grace; — but  we  do  not  know  enough  of 
what  takes  place  in  the  spiritual  world  to  know  how  the 
prayer  operates; — who  is  cognizant  of  it,  or  through  what 
channel  the  grace  is  given."  2 

All  this  may  be  true  and  yet,  it  may  be  argued,  it  may  mean 
nothing  more  than  that  God  has  stored  a  certain  amount  of 
spiritual  energy  about  us  and  by  getting  our  minds  in  a  cer- 
tain condition  we  open  the  gates  which  allow  the  energy  to 
flow  through  the  subconscious  sluice-way.  Even  accepting 
this,  it  is  not  the  same  as  saying  that  the  answer  to  prayer  is 
nothing  more  than  a  subconscious  reaction,  even  when  we 
know  that  God  is  the  author  of  the  subconsciousness,  and  has 
so  arranged  it  in  the  process  of  creation  through  evolution  that 
it  shall  give  a  certain  reaction.  Neither  of  these  views,  how- 
ever, seems  likely  to  inspire  the  practice  of  prayer,  or  calcu- 

1  W.  James,  The  Varieties  oj  Religious  Experience,  pp.  466,  477,  485, 
and  523. 

3  F.  W.  H.  Myers,  in  a  private  letter  to  a  friend.  Quoted  by  W. 
James,  The  Varieties  oj  Religious  Experience  p.  467. 


4i6  PRAYER 

lated  to  bring  about  that  attitude  of  communion  and  de- 
pendence in  which  we  believe  true  prayer  to  consist. 

While  it  is  true  that  "it  is  not  as  a  Giver  but  as  a  Com- 
panion that  God  is  chiefly  valued  and  sought  in  prayer,"  and 
that  "God  rather  than  His  gifts  is  desired,"  it  is  also  true 
that  there  can  be  no  companionship  without  giving  some- 
thing on  both  sides.  Petitional  prayer  is  only  a  part  of 
prayer,  yet  it  is  a  part,  nevertheless,  and  must  be  recognized 
as  such.  In  this  companionship  God  asks  something  of  us, 
and  is  it  not  legitimate  for  us  to  ask  something  of  Him? 
True,  our  petitions  are  limited  by  "Thy  will  be  done,"  and  it 
is  not  ours  to  demand,  but  if  God's  love  is  what  we  are  led  to 
suppose  it  is,  our  prayers  are  the  occasion  of  the  blessing  of 
which  His  love  is  the  cause.  An  analysis  of  Jesus'  prayers  * 
shows  us  that  while  communion  was  the  main  element,  peti- 
tion was  far  from  lacking. 

We  have  been  endeavoring  to  confine  our  analysis  so  far  to 
subjective  results  of  prayer,  but  one  may  see  how  far-reach- 
ing this  is  in  itself.  And  if  we  go  further  and  admit  that  God 
works  directly  upon  the  subconsciousness  of  man,  we  include 
a  far  greater  scope.  If  He  influences  men  through  the  sub- 
consciousness, this  influence  is  not  confined  to  the  person 
who  offers  the  prayer,  but  may  be  extended  to  other  or  all  men 
directly.  On  the  other  hand,  through  the  influence  of  one 
person  upon  another  indirectly  our  prayers  may  be  answered, 
and  if  it  shall  be  scientifically  demonstrated  that  telepathy  is 
something  more  than  a  theory  and  its  laws  are  understood, 
influence  not  only  between  man  and  man  but  between  God 
and  man  will  be  better  comprehended  and  come  more  fully 
into  the  class  of  natural  law. 

Take,  for  example,  the  demonstration  of  George  Muller, 

1  See  F.  O.  Beck,  "Prayer:  A  Study  in  its  History  and  Psychology," 
The  American  Journal  oj  Religious  Psychology  and  Education,  II, 
p.  no  /. 


PRAYER  417 

of  Bristol,  England,  who  died  in  1898.  There  is  a  tendency 
to  make  either  too  much  or  too  little  of  his  test.  God,  to  him, 
was  simply  a  business  partner  in  the  maintenance  of  his 
orphanage,  and  he  seldom  seemed  to  arise  above  this  narrow 
view.  What  is  the  value  of  such  a  test  ?  It  is  simply  one 
test.  It  is  good  as  far  as  it  goes,  but  the  conditions  were 
not  just  what  a  thoroughly  scientific  man  would  impose.  It 
proves  simply  what  it  proves,  that  he  was  able  to  do  certain 
things  in  a  certain  way;  but  it  does  prove  that.  However, 
it  is  only  one  case,  and  we  are  not  privileged  to  generalize 
too  broadly  on  one  case.  The  tendency  has  been  for  some 
to  say  that  it  proved  everything  and  for  others  to  say  that 
it  proved  nothing.  If  God  works  on  men  through  the  sub- 
consciousness, this  case  would  come  within  our  theory; 
for  it  was  the  minds  of  men  which  were  influenced  to  give 
in  providing  this  demonstration. 

We  recognize  the  tendency  on  the  part  of  men  to  see  ob- 
jective answers  when  they  do  not  exist,  and  no  doubt  a  cer- 
tain reduction  must  be  made  on  account  of  this  mental  atti- 
tude. Much  has  been  written  and  many  cases  cited  to  prove 
the  possibility  of  such  answers.1  The  line  of  demarkation 
which  is  drawn  to  my  thinking  is  not  between  subjective  and 
objective  answers,  but  between  personal  and  material  an- 
swers, and  this,  as  may  be  seen,  on  account  of  the  theory 
that  God  works  through  and  on  the  subconsciousness  of 
man.  Prayer  for  a  change  of  weather  would  seem  to  me, 
therefore,  outside  of  the  legitimate  sphere  of  petition,  but 
prayer  for  the  spiritual  advancement  of  certain  persons 
would  be  a  legitimate  petition  to  offer,  but  not  so  likely  to 
be  answered  as  prayer  for  the  spiritual  advancement  of  the 
person  offering  the  prayer,  for  in  the  latter  case,  both  con- 
sciousness and  subconsciousness  would  be  in  perfect  accord. 

1  See  such  books  as  W.  W.  Patton,  Prayer  and  its  Remarkable  Answers; 
W.  W.  Kinsley,  Science  and  Prayer. 


4i8  PRAYER 

Prayer  for  the  sick  would  not  be  unlike  that  for  spiritual  ad- 
vancement. 

The  philosophical  and  theological  problems  which  sur- 
round the  subject  of  prayer  must  remain  untouched;  and 
the  special  problems  which  the  subconscious  theory  arouses 
cannot  be  discussed  here,  but  I  believe  the  position  is  philo- 
sophically defensible. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

SEXUALITY 

"Though  Love  use  Reason  for  his  physician,  he  admits  him  not  for  his 
counsellor. ' ' — Shakespeare. 

Even  the  most  casual  students  of  religion  must  have  ob- 
served an  apparently  intimate  connection  between  religious 
and  sexual  emotions,  and  not  a  few  have  read  with  amaze- 
ment the  abnormal  cults  which  have  had  the  sexual  element 
as  a  foundation  for  their  denominational  dissent.  To  those 
who  have  been  reared  to  consider  all  sexual  matters  as  par- 
ticularly sacred  or  sinful,  according  to  their  standard  of  use 
and  abuse,  erotic  factors  have  seemed  to  have  little  in  com- 
mon with  religious  worship.  When  any  connection  between 
the  two  has  been  discovered  by  investigators  the  temptation 
has  proven  very  strong  to  overestimate  the  closeness  of  the 
relation.  It  is  not  unusual  to  read  that  the  sexual  emotions 
are  the  primary  factors  in  religious  development,  and  some 
very  questionable  arguments  are  used  to  substantiate  this 
position.  Undoubtedly  there  is  a  relation,  and  perhaps  we 
can  say  that  sexual  emotions  may  have  had  some  direct  and 
certainly  some  indirect  part  in  religious  development. 

We  are  aware  that  if  the  torrent  of  feeling  is  choked  in  one 
direction,  it  is  very  apt  to  swell  and  burst  a  passage  in  an- 
other; and  when  we  consider  that  love  and  religion  are  the 
two  most  violent  emotions  to  which  humanity  is  heir,  it  is 
not  surprising  that  any  disturbance  of  one  should  cause  a 
corresponding  excitement  of  the  other.     A  disappointment 

in  love  may  send  a  girl  to  the  convent  who  was  formerly  with- 

419 


42o  SEXUALITY 

out  religious  fervor,  the  excitement  of  religious  revival  may 
be  followed  by  unbridled  licentiousness. 

The  evidence  for  this  relation  may  be  divided  into  three 
classes,  viz.,  historical,  pathological,  and  psychological. 
Early  religious  rites  were  largely  sexual  and  orgiastic.  Es- 
pecially is  this  true  in  phallicism,  the  worship  of  the  genera- 
tive principle.1  In  this  form  of  worship  there  is  usually  un- 
controlled debauchery,  but  sometimes  the  licentiousness 
takes  the  form  of  religious  rite  and  duty.  This  phase  is  ex- 
hibited in  some  contemporary  Russian  Christian  sects.  Few 
if  any  of  the  early  and  primitive  forms  of  religion  are  devoid 
of  sexual  elements:  "The  simplest  functions  of  physiological 
life  may  be  its  [religion's]  ministers.  Everyone  who  is  at  all 
acquainted  with  the  Persian  mystics  knows  how  wine  may 
be  regarded  as  an  instrument  of  religion.  Indeed,  in  all 
countries  and  in  all  ages,  some  form  of  physical  enlargement 
— singing,  dancing,  drinking,  sexual  excitement — has  been 
intimately  associated  with  worship."  2 

It  is,  however,  with  the  Christian  religion  that  we  are  now 
concerned.  A  glance  at  a  partial  list  of  the  sects  which  have 
had  some  abnormal  sexual  element  at  least  attributed  to  them 
shows  that  the  followers  of  Jesus  have  been  far  from  free 
from  this  taint — Nicolaitans,  Antitactes,  Carpocrates,  Cain- 
ites,  Euchites  or  Eustathians  or  Messalians,  Tauchelm, 
Brethren  of  the  Free  Spirit,  Beghards  and  Beguines,  Turlu- 
pins,  Luciferians,  Adamites,  Men  of  Understanding,  Liber- 
tines and  Spirituels  of  Geneva,  Flagellants  or  Chlistowschini, 
Skopsi,  Shakers,  Agapomone,  Mucker,  Oneida  Community, 
Bible  Communists,  Perfectionists,  Free  Lovers,  Spiritual- 
ists, etc.,  etc.3 

While  yet  the  apostles  wrote,   certain  irregularities  had 

1  J.  Moses,  Pathological  Aspects  of  Religions,  pp.  22-30. 

2  H.  Ellis,  The  New  Spirit,  p.  232. 

3  Compare  T.  G.  Crippen,  History  0)  Christian  Doctrine,  pp.  268-313. 


SEXUALITY  421 

crept  into  the  church.  The  agape,  which  was  intended  to 
promote  the  fraternal  feeling  existing  between  the  brethren 
and  sisters  in  the  Lord  and  to  minister  to  the  poor,  soon  de- 
generated. The  needy  were  neglected,  the  licentiousness 
characteristic  of  the  heathen  worship,  with  which  the  people 
were  familiar,  crept  into  the  love  feast,  the  holy  kiss  inspired 
unholy  thoughts,  and  the  general  gathering  was  supplemented 
by  secret  meetings.  The  church,  not  on  account  of  external  t^S 
criticism  but  for  its  own  safety,  soon  abolished  the  agape, 
for,  notwithstanding  its  social  value,  it  could  not  be  con- 
trolled. It  was  denounced  by  the  Fathers  and  condemned 
by  the  Councils  of  Laodicea  and  of  Carthage,  but  it  lingered 
as  a  scandal  and  an  offence  until  the  Council  of  Trullo,  at 
the  end  of  the  seventh  century,  when  it  was  finally  sup- 
pressed. The  Commemoration  of  the  Martyrs  also  degen- 
erated into  scandalous  dissipation  until  it  became  a  stench. 
Gross  breaches  of  chastity  were  frequent,  and  the  annual  fes- 
tivals were  suppressed  on  account  of  the  immorality  they 
produced.1 

The  lax  conditions  seemed  to  call  for  some  radical  meas- 
ures in  the  early  church,  and  the  eastern  and  pagan  idea  of 
the  celibacy  of  the  priest  appealed  to  the  church.  The  ne-  lS 
cessity  was  the  excuse.  Any  arguments  which  are  or  have 
been  used  to  substantiate  the  doctrine  were  probably  of  sub- 
sequent origin.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  remind  ourselves  of 
the  failure  of  this  step  to  stamp  out  the  evil.  The  remedy 
seemed  to  aggravate  the  trouble  rather  than  to  relieve  it, 
except  that  it  revealed  the  church's  nominal  disapproval  of 
licentiousness.  The  church  in  the  middle  centuries  reeked 
with  sexual  abominations  in  every  form,  and  it  did  not  al- 
ways, or  even  frequently,  receive  the  censure  which  it  de- 
served, but  the  condition  was  winked  at  by  those  in  authority, 
who,  themselves,  were  not  free  from  scandal. 

1  W.  E.  H.  Lecky,  History  0]  European  Morals,  II,  p.  150. 


422  SEXUALITY 

In  later  years,  some  whom  Protestants  have  been  led  to 
look  upon  with  much  favor  were  carried  to  one  extreme  or  the 
other.  Bunyan,  thankful  he  is  shy  of  women,  says,  "Some, 
indeed,  have  urged  the  Holy  Kiss;  but  then  I  have  asked 
why  they  make  balks  ?  Why  did  they  salute  the  most  hand- 
some and  let  the  ill-favored  go?"  1  We  notice  further  that 
Bunyan's  pilgrim  would  not  even  take  his  wife  with  him  on 
the  celestial  journey.  On  the  other  hand,  Erasmus  writes 
from  England  while  on  a  visit  there,  "To  mention  but  a 
single  attraction,  the  English  girls  are  divinely  pretty;  soft, 
pleasant,  gentle,  and  charming  as  the  muses.  They  have  one 
custom  which  cannot  be  too  much  admired.  When  you  go 
anywhere  on  a  visit  the  girls  all  kiss  you.  They  kiss  you  when 
you  arrive.  They  kiss  you  when  you  go  away,  and  they  kiss 
you  again  when  you  return.  Go  where  you  will  it  is  all 
kisses;  and  my  dear  Faustus,  if  you  had  once  tasted  how 
soft  and  fragrant  those  lips  are,  you  would  wish  to  spend  your 
life  here."  2 

In  our  own  times  the  connection  between  religious  and 
sexual  phenomena  is  largely  confined  to  revivals  and  will  be 
mentioned  later.  In  fact,  much  of  the  historical  argument 
must  be  deferred  until  we  take  up  specific  cases  in  dealing 
with  different  phases  of  the  subject. 

The  argument  from  pathology  rests  upon  the  testimony  of 
many  alienists  to  the  effect  that  in  cases  of  insanity  where  re- 
ligious delusions  predominate  the  disturbance  usually  has  a 
sexual  origin.  On  this  point  there  appears  to  be  a  general 
agreement.    Notice  some  quotations  from  eminent  writers. 

"It  has  been  noticed  that  among  the  morbid  organic  con- 
ditions which  accompany  the  show  of  excessive  piety  and 
religious  rapture  in  the  insane,  none  are  so  frequent  as  dis- 
orders of  the  sexual  organism.     Conversely,  the  frenzies  of 

1  J.  Bunyan,  Grace  Abounding,  p.  316. 
a  J.  A.  Froude,  Erasmus,  p.  42. 


SEXUALITY  423 

religious  revivals  have  not  unfrequently  ended  in  gross  prof- 
ligacy. The  encouragement  of  celibacy  by  the  fervent  leaders 
of  most  creeds,  utilizes  in  an  unconscious  way  the  morbid 
connection  between  an  over-restraint  of  the  sexual  desires 
and  impulse  toward  extreme  devotion."  ! 

"Love  and  Religion  are  closely  related,  and  when  the 
sexual  desire,  connected  with  love,  is  considered  sinful,  it  is 
readily  understood  why  religious  insanity  of  love  has  a  sexual 
origin,  even  though  the  sick  cannot  be  accused  of  sinfulness."  2 

"The  history  of  female  insanity,  as  appears  from  cases 
given  by  Havelock  Ellis,  shows  how,  when  the  balance  of 
the  religious  emotions  is  upset,  the  latent,  subconscious 
physical  element  may  temporarily  reassert  itself  and  domi- 
nate the  spiritualized  sexuality."  3 

"Ecstasy,  as  we  see  in  cases  of  acute  mental  disease,  is 
probably  always  connected  with  sexual  excitement,  if  not 
with  sexual  depravity.  The  same  association  is  constantly 
seen  in  less  extreme  cases,  and  one  of  the  commonest  features 
in  the  conversation  of  an  acutely  maniacal  woman  is  the 
intermingling  of  erotic  and  religious  ideas."  4 

"I  venture  to  express  my  conviction  that  we  should  rarely 
err  if,  in  a  case  of  religious  melancholy,  we  assume  the  sexual 
apparatus  to  be  implicated."  5 

"All  through  the  history  of  insanity  the  student  has  occa- 
sion to  observe  this  close  alliance  of  sexual  and  religious 
ideas;  an  alliance  which  may  be  partly  accounted  for  be- 
cause of  the  prominence  which  sexual  themes  have  in  most 
creeds,  as  illustrated  in  ancient  times  by  the  phallus  worship 
of  the  Egyptians;  the  ceremonies  of  the  Friga  Cultus  of  the 

1  F.  Galton,  Inquiries  into  the  Human  Faculty,  p.  66  /. 

2  A.  Nystrom,  The  Natural  Laws  of  Sexual  Life,  p.  174. 

3  H.  Northcote,  Christianity  and  Sex  Problems,  p.  142. 

*  C.  Norman,  Tuke's  Dictionary  of  Psychological  Medicine. 
5  Schroder  van  der  Kolk,  quoted  by  H.  Ellis,  Studies  in  the  Psychology 
of  Sex,  II,  p.  233. 


424  SEXUALITY 

Saxons;  the  frequent  and  detailed  references  to  sexual  top- 
ics in  the  Koran  and  several  other  books  of  the  kind,  and 
which  is  further  illustrated  in  the  performances  which,  to 
come  down  to  a  modern  period,  characterize  the  religious 
revival  and  camp  meeting,  as  they  tinctured  their  mediaeval 
model,  the  Minister  Anabaptist  movement."  ' 

I  have  quoted  sufficient  on  this  point  to  show  the  almost 
universal  agreement  among  neurologists.  I  am  not  sure, 
however,  that  the  argument,  while  possessing  some  po- 
tency, has  not  been  exaggerated.  The  derangement  of  mind 
is  not  always  as  trustworthy  as  the  normal  condition  for  a 
foundation  for  reasonable  conclusions.  Why  is  it  that  an 
alcoholic  paranoiac  who  is  married  presents  as  a  symptom  of 
his  condition,  almost  without  exception,  a  suspicion  of  the 
infidelity  of  his  spouse  ?  Why  is  it  that  the  unmarried  alcoholic 
usually  has  sexual  or  religious  delusions  ?  If  the  connection 
between  religion  and  sex  is  no  more  definitely  indicated  in 
insanity  than  the  relation  between  alcohol  and  sex  in  this 
other  form  of  insanity,  the  argument  loses  its  force.  Not  as 
a  proof  in  itself,  though,  but  as  a  series  in  the  chain  of  proof, 
this  argument  has  its  value. 

There  might  be  added  to  the  pathological  argument  the 
fact  that  many  religious  geniuses  have  been  sexually  abnor- 
mal. Many  eminent  thinkers  have  been  without  sexual  de- 
sire, and  some  have  been  so  enraptured  with  the  heavenly 
state  that  they  have  been  disqualified  for  married  life;  Joan 
^  of  Arc  never  menstruated. 

What  I  have  called  the  psychological  argument  has  two 
phases  to  present:  the  connection  between  human  and  di- 
vine love,  as  having  a  common  emotional  basis;  and  the 
relation  between  sexuality  and  religious  awakening  during 
adolescence.    Many  devout  men  and  women  have  been  sen- 

■R.  C.  Spitzka,  Insanity,  p.  39.  See  also  R.  von  Krafft-Ebing, 
Psychopathia  Sexualis,  pp.  8  and  10. 


SEXUALITY  425 

sitive  to  carnal  pleasures.  From  a  psychological  standpoint 
the  wonder  is,  not  that  so  many  fall,  but  that  so  few  give  way 
to  sexual  pressure.  Much  ado  is  made  if  a  clergyman  or 
prominent  religious  worker  is  guilty  of  sexual  sin,  and  cor- 
rectly, too;  but  in  not  a  few  cases  the  alienist  might  furnish  us 
with  a  basis,  not  only  for  pity,  but  for  a  partial  (at  least)  jus- 
tification. The  very  nervous  constitution  which  is  necessary 
for  excessive  devoutness,  in  different  female  members  of  a 
congregation,  may  make  sexual  desire  more  active  and  at 
the  same  time  lessen  the  power  of  self-control. 

In  cases  where  religious  leaders  fall,  the  principals  are 
seldom  or  never  of  the  lewd,  coarse  type,  but,  to  the  amaze- 
ment of  those  who  do  not. realize  this  relationship,  the  more 
refined,  delicate,  neurotic,  and  devout.  The  word  "  hypocrite  " 
so  freely  used  at  such  times  may  be  entirely  incorrect,  for  the 
fallen  ones  may  well  be  the  most  devout  and  really  religious 
members  of  a  congregation,  who  are,  in  their  very  devoutness, 
emotionally  unbalanced,  but  who  give  no  other  token  of  this 
abnormality  than  sexual  indulgence.  When  we  know  our- 
selves only  in  part  we  appear  to  be  a  mass  of  entanglements 
and  confusion. 

"Human  love  is  the  root  from  which  all  other  love  springs. 
And  it  is  instructive  to  trace  the  behavior  of  the  different 
forms  of  the  religious  spirit  to  those  human  passions  with 
which  it  is  so  mysteriously  bound  up.  The  fire  of  heavenly 
love  passes  back  very  easily  into  an  earthly  flame.  There  is 
scarcely  anything  more  common  than  to  find  the  natural 
impulse  of  ordinary  affection  tricking  itself  out  in  the  garb  of 
religion.  And  it  is  not  easy  to  say  how  far  the  custom  of 
celibacy  may  not  have  arisen  among  the  clergy  in  order  to 
avoid  an  almost  inevitable  confusion  between  two  overlap- 
ping groups  of  emotions."  ' 

No  one  will  deny  that  love  is  an  important  element  in  re- 

1  F.  Granger,  The  Soul  oj  a  Christian,  p.  186. 


426  SEXUALITY 

ligion,  having  both  man  and  God  as  the  objects.  It  seems 
highly  probable  that  human  love  has  its  root  in  the  sexual 
instinct.  Indirectly,  then,  divine  love  must  have  sprung  from 
the  same  source.1  If  this  is  true,  we  can  the  more  easily  trace 
the  connection  between  sexuality  and  religion,  and  under- 
stand why  religious  excitement,  stirring  as  it  does  the  primi- 
tive elements  in  our  being,  should  degenerate  into  licentious- 
ness.   Professor  Ladd  objects  to  this  in  the  following  words: 

"It  is  not,  as  several  recent  writers  have  endeavored  to 
show,  the  sexual  emotion  of  love  which  either  becomes  a 
source  of  religion  or  which  develops  into  a  truly  religious 
love.  The  close  connection  of  sexual  conceptions  with  the 
mysteries  of  faith  in  a  great  number  of  religions,  and  indeed 
in  all  religions  at  a  certain  stage  of  their  development,  and 
the  relation  of  sexual  and  semi-religious  emotions  as  recip- 
rocal stimuli  of  certain  mental  attitudes  toward  certain  of  the 
deities  cannot,  indeed,  be  denied.  It  may  also  be  said,  of 
course,  in  a  general  way,  that  without  the  sexual  emotions 
and  relations  no  social  life  could  arise  or  be  sustained  among 
human  beings  under  existing  conditions.  From  this  it  fol- 
lows that,  without  its  relations  to  the  social  life  and  social 
development  of  humanity,  religion  could  not  have  arisen  and 
developed  into  human  history.  But  to  say  these  things  is  to 
say  both  something  less  and  something  more  than  is  neces- 
sary to  establish  a  claim  for  the  sexual  emotions  to  be  an  in-, 
dependent  source  of  religion;  or  even  to  establish  a  parity 
of  kind  and  a  partnership  in  activity  between  these  emotions 
and  the  more  definitely  religious  feelings."  2 

Whatever  our  theory  of  origin  may  be,  the  truth  of  which 
is  hidden  in  the  obscurity  of  antiquity,  the  fact  of  the  rela- 
tionship and  connection  is  held  by  both  parties,  and  this  is 

1  See  R.  von  Krafft-Ebing,  Psycho pathia  Sexualis,  p.  9  /.,  regarding 
the  relation  of  religious  and  sexual  love. 
*  G.  T.  Ladd,  Philosophy  oj  Religion,  I,  p.  292  /. 


SEXUALITY  427 

the  main  point,  after  all.  Love  is  not  different  in  quality 
according  to  its  object,  and  love  for  God  and  man  may  indeed 
become  confused  if  we  consider  the  truth  of  what  Ritschl  says, 
"It  is  one  of  the  conditions  of  religious  faith  that  what  it  con- 
tains in  thought  should  be  represented  as  present."  Only  to 
those  who  represent  God  as  an  intellectual  ideal  rather  than 
as  a  living  person  does  it  seem  impossible  to  realize  Him  as 
an  object  of  love  in  the  same  sense  as  human  beings.  Myers 
calls  attention  to  another  factor  which  adds  to  the  signifi- 
cance of  this  relationship  when  he  says,  "That  instinct  for 
union  with  beauty  which  manifests  itself  most  obviously  in 
sexual  passion  may  be  exalted  into  a  symbolic  introduction 
into  a  sacred  and  spiritual  world."  ' 

The  contemporaneous  development  or  crisis  of  the  sexual 
and  religious  life  in  adolescence  has  been  noted  by  many 
recent  writers,  and  seems  to  add  to  the  proof  of  a  relation- 
ship. It  does  not,  though,  as  some  have  maintained,  prove 
that  the  religious  upheaval  at  this  period  is  due  to  sexual 
changes  any  more  than  it  proves  the  opposite  cause  and 
effect.  Starbuck  points  out  this  relationship  with  some  de- 
tail.   He  says : 

"We  shall  see  later  that  at  the  present  stage  in  evolution 
the  reproductive  instinct  has  a  negative  rather  than  a  positive 
significance  as  a  factor  in  religion;  but  in  its  biological  im- 
port it  conditions,  in  a  certain  sense,  the  great  awakening  on 
the  physiological,  psychical,  and  spiritual  side  which  comes 
in  adolescence.  .  .  .  Although  this  connection  is  a  remote 
one,  and  the  religious  instinct  in  its  higher  development  is 
dependent  upon  other  conditions  and  has  other  sources, 
nevertheless,  the  various  phenomena — accession  to  puberty, 
rapid  physical  development,  transformations  in  mental  life, 
and  spontaneous  religious  awakening — are  so  closely  inter- 

1  F.  W.  H.  Myers,  Human  Personality  and  its  Survival  of  Bodily 
Death,  I,  p.  177. 


428  SEXUALITY 

woven  that  we  may  say  with  certainty  that  they  have  had  in 
evolutionary  development  a  direct  and  intimate  relation. 
.  .  .  Not  infrequently  the  struggle  is  between  the  tendency 
of  the  new  life  to  express  itself,  on  the  one  hand,  in  higher 
ideational  centres,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  to  centralize  in  the 
reproductive  instinct;  consequently,  storm  and  stress  is  the 
accompaniment  of  effort  to  control  passion.  The  struggle  be- 
comes so  vital  and  far-reaching  as  to  involve  the  whole  relig- 
ious nature,  and  sometimes  takes  a  definitely  religious  turn."  ! 
±  Other  authorities  concur:  "Beyond  a  question  of  doubt, 
man  becomes  religiously  enthused  most  frequently  either 
early  in  life  when  pubescence  is,  or  is  about  to  be  estab- 
lished, or  later  in  life  when  sexual  desire  has  become  either 
entirely  extinct  or  very  much  abated.  ...  Of  all  insanities 
of  the  pubescent  state,  erotomania  and  religious  mania  are 
the  most  frequent  and  the  most  pronounced.  Sometimes  they 
go  hand  in  hand,  the  most  inordinate  sensuality  being  coup- 
led with  abnormal  religious  zeal."  2 

"It  is  no  accidental  synchronism  of  unrelated  events  that 
the  age  of  religion  and  that  of  sexual  maturity  coincide,  any 
more  than  that  senescence  has  its  own  type  of  religiosity.  Nor 
is  religion  degraded  by  the  recognition  of  this  intimate  rela- 
tionship, save  to  those  who  either  think  vilely  about  sex  or 
who  lack  insight  into  its  real  psychic  nature  and  so  fail  to 
realize  how  indissoluble  is  the  bond  that  God  and  nature 
have  wrought  between  religion  and  love."  3 

Starbuck  further  points  out4  that  about  one-third  of  the 

1  E.  D.  Starbuck,  The  Psychology  of  Religion,  pp.  147,  207,  219,  and 
220. 

2  Wier,  "Religion  and  Lust,"  quoted  by  J.  Moses,  Pathological  As- 
pects, etc.,  p.  20. 

3  G.  S.  Hall,  Adolescence,  II,  p.  292.  The  same  author,  pp.  295-301, 
draws  a  number  of  parallelisms  between  religion  and  love  which  are 
carried  to  rather  fanciful  limits  in  some  instances. 

*  E.  D.  Starbuck,  The  Psychology  0)  Religion,  pp.  70  and  206. 


SEXUALITY  429 

males  who  answered  his  questionnaire  said  that  sexual  temp- 
tations were  the  chief  temptations  of  youth,  and  that  they 
usually  accompany  spontaneous  awakenings.  He  further 
takes  notice  of  the  fact  that  in  nearly  all  instances  the  phe- 
nomena during  conviction  are  remarkably  like  those  which 
follow  the  sexual  evil.  If  this  is  true,  the  reverse  is  also  to  be 
considered;  religious  conversion  not  infrequently  cures  sex- 
ual temptation  in  a  single  hour,  so  that  it  is  no  longer  to  be 
reckoned  as  a  danger  by  those  habitually  addicted.1 

Professor  Ladd  comes  forward  as  an  opponent  to  the  over 
emphasis  which  has  been  given  to  the  connection  between  the 
sexual  and  religious  factors  in  adolescence.  He  points  out 
"a  defect  if  not  a  fallacy"  in  Starbuck's  conclusion  "that  the 
principal  factor  in  religious  conversion  is  the  sexual  changes 
which  accompany  the  period  of  adolescence."  In  detail  he 
shows,  from  Starbuck's  own  graphic  representations,  that  the 
curve  of  conversion  does  not  agree  with  the  physiological  and 
sexual  curve.2  He  proceeds  further  to  disagree  with  Star- 
buck  "when  it  is  regarded  as  a  safe  conclusion  from  an  in- 
ductive study  that  'in  a  certain  sense  the  religious  life  is  an 
irradiation  of  the  reproductive  instinct'  (p.  401);  and  even 
that  the  sexual  life  'seems  to  have  originally  given  the  psychic 
impulse  which  called  out  the  latent  possibilities  of  the  de- 
velopment' of  religion,  although  it  did  not  furnish  the  'raw 
material  out  of  which  religion  was  constructed'  (p.  402)."  3 

There  is  little  doubt  that,  in  common  with  the  investiga- 
tion of  all  new  subjects,  the  importance  of  the  sexual  changes 
to  religious  development  has  been  exaggerated,  yet  a  residue 
of  truth  remains.     There  is  a  relationship  which,  taken  in 

1  See  the  case  of  Colonel  Gardner  reported  in  W.  James,  The  Varieties 
of  Religious  Experience,  p.  269.  The  cure  is  probably  not  unlike  that 
of  alcoholism,  an  account  of  which  may  be  seen  in  my  Psychology  of 
Alcoholism,  chap.  X. 

2  G.  T.  Ladd,  Philosophy  of  Religion,  I,  p.  276  note. 

3  G.  T.  Ladd,  Philosophy  of  Religion,  I,  p.  292  note. 


430  SEXUALITY 

connection  with  the  other  facts  which  alone  are  not  conclu- 
sive, makes  a  strong  case  for  the  thesis  that  religion  and  sex- 
uality are  vitally  related.  We  must  be  on  our  guard,  how- 
ever, against  thinking  that  the  sexual  development  is  the 
cause  and  the  religious  growth  is  the  result.  There  is  no 
proof  of  this.    They  appear  contemporaneously. 

We  must  further  refrain,  especially  with  the  young,  from 
allowing  our  religious  methods  to  be  of  such  a  character  that 
they  will  minister  to  sexual  excitement,  and  degrade  those 
whom  we  are  trying  to  uplift.  Davenport  raises  a  protest 
against  some  of  our  hymnology,  and  gives  an  example  of  a 
hymn  sung  at  a  gathering  of  thousands  of  young  people  be- 
tween the  ages  of  fourteen  and  twenty-five.  This  hymn  be- 
came intensely  popular  at  this  camp-meeting  and  was  heard 
everywhere.  Whatever  advantage  might  have  accrued  to  the 
musical  part  of  the  programme  was  probably  more  than 
counterbalanced  by  the  pernicious  moral  influence.  The 
following  is  one  stanza  of  the  hymn : 

" Blessed  lily  of  the  valley— oh,  how  fair  is  He! 
He  is  mine,  I  am  His. 

Sweeter  than  the  angel's  music  is  His  voice  to  me, 
He  is  mine,  I  am  His. 

Where  the  lilies  fair  are  blooming  by  the  waters  calm, 

There  He  leads  me  and  upholds  me  by  His  strong  right  arm. 

All  the  air  is  love  around  me— I  can  feel  no  harm- 
He  is  mine,  I  am  His."  * 

It  seems  clear  that  the  most  serious  source  of  religious 
difficulty  for  male  adolescents  is  sexual  irritability,  and  those 
who  have  care  of  youths  should  see  that  the  body  is  robust 
and  the  thoughts  clean  and  wholesome,  to  insure  both  sexual 
and  religious  development  in  the  best  way. 

In  addition  to  the  objections  raised  by  Professor  Ladd  and 
cited  above,  we  have  even  stronger  protests  from  Professor 

1  F.  M.  Davenport,  Primitive  Traits  in  Religious  Revivals,  p.  291  /. 


SEXUALITY  431 

James  against  the  contention  of  the  close  relationship  be- 
tween sexuality  and  religion.  These  two  prominent  psy- 
chologists are  the  strongest  opponents  to  the  theory,  or  the 
interpretation  of  the  facts,  but  their  eminence  should  give  the 
opposition  not  a  little  weight.    Professor  James  says: 

"A  more  fully  developed  example  of  the  same  kind  of  rea- 
soning is  the  fashion,  quite  common  nowadays  among  certain 
writers,  of  criticising  the  religious  emotions  by  showing  a 
connection  between  them  and  the  sexual  life.  Conversion  is 
a  crisis  of  puberty  and  adolescence.  The  maceration  of  saints, 
and  the  devotion  of  missionaries,  are  only  instances  of  the 
parental  instinct  of  self-sacrifice  gone  astray.  For  the  hys- 
terical nun,  starving  for  natural  life,  Christ  is  but  an  imaginary 
substitute  for  a  more  earthly  object  of  affection.  And  the 
like.  As  with  many  ideas  that  float  in  the  air  of  one's  time, 
this  notion  shrinks  from  dogmatic  general  statement  and  ex- 
presses itself  only  partially  and  by  innuendo.  It  seems  to  me 
that  few  conceptions  are  less  instructive  than  this  reinter- 
pretation  of  religion  as  perverted  sexuality.  It  reminds  me, 
so  cruelly  is  it  often  employed,  of  the  famous  Catholic  taunt, 
that  the  reformation  may  be  best  understood  by  remembering 
that  its  jons  et  origo  was  Luther's  wish  to  marry  a  nun; — the 
effects  are  infinitely  wider  than  the  alleged  causes,  and  for 
the  most  part  opposite  in  nature.  It  is  true  that  in  the  vast 
collection  of  religious  phenomena,  some  are  undisguisedly 
amatory — e.  g.,  sex-deities  and  obscene  rites  in  polytheism, 
and  ecstatic  feelings  of  union  with  the  Savior  in  a  few  Chris- 
tian mystics.  But  then  why  not  equally  call  religion  an  aber- 
ration of  the  digestive  function,  and  prove  one's  point  by  the 
worship  of  Bacchus  and  Ceres,  or  by  the  ecstatic  feelings  of 
some  of  the  saints  about  the  Eucharist?  ...  In  fact,  one 
might  almost  as  well  interpret  religion  as  a  perversion  of  the 
respiratory  function.  .  .  .  One  might  then  as  well  set  up  the 
thesis  that  the  interest  in  mechanics,  physics,  chemistry,  logic, 


432  SEXUALITY 

philosophy,  and  sociology,  which  spring  up  during  adolescent 
years  along  with  that  in  poetry  and  religion,  is  also  a  perver- 
sion of  the  sexual  instinct — but  that  would  be  too  absurd. 
Moreover,  if  the  argument  from  synchrony  is  to  decide,  what 
is  to  be  done  with  the  fact  that  the  religious  age  par  excellence 
would  seem  to  be  old  age,  when  the  uproar  of  the  sexual  life  is 
past  ?  The  plain  truth  is  that  to  interpret  religion  one  must 
in  the  end  look  at  the  immediate  content  of  the  religious  con- 
sciousness. The  moment  one  does  this,  one  sees  how  wholly 
disconnected  it  is  in  the  main  from  the  content  of  the  sexual 
consciousness.  Everything  about  the  two  things  differs, 
objects,  moods,  faculties  concerned,  and  acts  impelled  to. 
Any  general  assimilation  is  simply  impossible:  what  we  find 
most  often  is  complete  hostility  and  contrast.  If  now  the  de- 
fenders of  the  sex  theory  say  that  this  makes  no  difference  to 
their  thesis;  that  without  the  chemical  contributions  which 
the  sex  organs  make  to  the  blood  the  brain  would  not  be 
nourished  so  as  to  carry  on  religious  activities,  this  final 
proposition  may  be  true  or  not  true;  but  at  any  rate,  it  has 
become  profoundly  uninstructive :  we  can  deduce  no  conse- 
quences from  it  which  help  us  to  interpret  religion's  meaning 
or  value.  In  this  sense  the  religious  life  depends  just  as  much 
upon  the  spleen,  the  pancreas,  the  kidneys  as  on  the  sexual 
apparatus,  and  the  whole  theory  has  lost  its  point  in  evapo- 
rating into  a  vague  general  assertion  of  the  dependence, 
somelww,  of  the  mind  upon  the  body."  1 

I  agree  with  Professor  James  in  what  I  have  already  said 
concerning  the  fallacy  of  making  sexuality  the  cause  and  re- 
ligion the  effect,  but  nevertheless  it  seems  that  he  has  greatly 
minimized  the  relationship,  which  the  facts  appear  to  prove. 

Religious  devoutness  shows  itself  by  sexual  abnormality  in 
two  extremes,  excess  and  continence.  Why  some  devotees  are 
led  into  sexual  indulgence  and  others  into  abstinence  is  a 

1  W.  James,  The  Varieties  oj  Religious  Experience,  pp.  10-12. 


SEXUALITY  433 

question  which  can  only  be  answered  by  an  appeal  to  the 
psychology  of  the  individual  and  the  forces  which  are  brought 
to  bear  upon  his  mind.  The  arguments  supporting  the 
course  chosen  are  subsequent  to  the  disposition  to  follow  in 
a  certain  way,  and  it  is  the  disposition  rather  than  the  reason- 
ing that  is  the  prime  point  in  the  explanation.  To  appreciate 
in  any  way  the  great  numbers  which  have  followed  either  one 
course  or  the  other,  we  must  now  take  up  the  subject  from 
these  two  standpoints,  and  give  an  epitome  of  the  way  in 
which  Christianity  has  been  led  from  the  natural  and  Chris- 
tian mean. 

Sexual  excess  has  not  always  manifested  itself  in  the  same 
way,  but  as  the  result  of  religious  revivals  spontaneous  licen- 
tiousness has  broken  out,  while  in  the  form  of  "spiritual  mar- 
riage" a  more  deliberate  and  apparently  reasonable  course 
has  been  taken. 

Religious  revivals,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  far  from  rooting 
out  sexual  desires,  seem  to  stimulate  them  at  times.  This 
has  been  especially  true  of  at  least  two  of  the  great  revivals  in 
America,  and  the  licentiousness  prevalent  at  camp-meetings 
in  later  years  has  become  a  byword.  Concerning  the  Ken- 
tucky revival  of  1800,  many  charges  of  sexual  liberty  have 
been  made  and  undoubtedly  some  exaggerations  have  crept 
into  the  accounts  of  those  who  have  written  in  an  antagonistic 
manner.  We  are  bound  in  justice  to  say,  however,  that  some 
of  the  charges  were  too  true  and  they  were  well  recognized  by 
some  of  the  wiser  leaders  at  the  time,  who  made  plans  for  a 
night  patrol  and  frequent  examination  of  different  parts  of 
the  camp. 

The  revival  of  1832  left  even  worse  results  in  its  train,  for 
while  there  was  licentiousness  in  Kentucky,  it  was  of  a  more 
transient  character  and  did  not  interfere  with  domestic  rela- 
tions to  nearly  the  same  extent  that  the  later  revival  did.  In 
the  "burnt  district"  (so  called   on  account  of  the  revival 


434  SEXUALITY 

flame  which  had  continuously  swept  this  community  for 
years)  of  New  York  State,  in  the  counties  of  Madison  and 
Oneida,  "spiritual  marriages"  and  pernicious  sexual  in- 
dulgence followed,  until  families  were  broken  up,  children 
were  deserted,  and  in  some  cases,  the  parentage  of  children 
was  in  doubt,  while  in  other  families  the  children  of  the 
"spiritual"  husband  would  assume  the  name  of  and  be  du- 
tifully cared  for  by  the  lawful  husband. 

"If  the  facts  were  not  before  us,  some  of  these  unions 
would  appear  incredible.  These  were  what  the  French 
would  call  menages  a  trois.  The  lawful  husband  and  the 
spiritual  one  lived  under  the  same  roof,  in  some  cases  with 
the  one  wife,  who  denied  all  conjugal  rights  to  the  husband 
in  law,  and  accorded  them  freely  to  the  husband  in  spirit; 
and  remarkable  instances  are  furnished  of  the  husbands  sub- 
mitting to  such  a  state  of  things  as  being  in  accordance  with 
the  Divine  will.  And  such  examples  of  degradation,  ac- 
cording to  the  annals  of  the  time,  do  not  appear  to  have  been 
rare."  * 

While  these  are  the  most  flagrant  examples,  it  appears  that 
in  not  a  few  of  the  cases  in  which  the  doctrine  of  "spiritual 
marriage"  was  renewed,  the  impetus  came  from  some  re- 
vival. It  may  further  be  stated,  I  think,  that  the  denomina- 
tions which  suffer  most  from  the  fall  of  clergy  and  members 
of  the  church  by  sexual  dissipation  are  those  which  partici- 
pate most  frequently  in  revival  services  of  a  more  emotional 
character. 

"The  kind  of  spiritual  excitement  which  a  super-emotional 
revival  generates  is  likely  to  be  more  harmful  than  helpful  to 
the  self-control  of  the  individual  as  exhibited  in  both  his 
sexual  and  spiritual  activities.  The  over-stimulation  of  re- 
ligious sentiment  among  the  young  frequently  arouses  the 

1  A.  S.  Rhodes,  "  Convulsive  Religion,"  Appleton's  Journal,  XIV, 
P-  751- 


SEXUALITY  435 

human  love  passion  much  more  fiercely  than  the  divine.  It 
is  natural  that  it  should  be  so  from  what  we  know  of  adoles- 
cent psychology  and  from  what  we  know  of  the  inhibitive 
effect  of  religious  excitement  upon  the  higher  centres  of 
control."  * 

Those  who  are  carried  away  by  the  excitement  of  religious 
revivals  usually  justify  their  licentiousness  by  the  claim  that    / 
they  are  perfect  and  therefore  cannot  sin,  regardless  of  their  t 
conduct;  as  the  followers  of  Amalric  many  years  ago  claimed 
that  '"he  who  lives  in  love  can  do  no  wrong."    Any  persons 
or  sects  which  present  such  a  doctrine  are  usually  suspected, 
and  probably  justly,  of  the  licentious  conduct  which  results 
from  such  teaching.     Some  Russian  Christian  sects  to-day, 
after  hysterical  and  ecstatic  dances,  shouts,  and  actions,  aban- 
don  themselves  to  unbridled  licentiousness,  claiming  that  the    I 
presence  of  the  Holy  Spirit  sanctifies  their  acts.2    This  license 
cannot  be  morally  justified  and  the  excuse  is  never  acceptable 
to  those  outside  the  esoteric  circle,  however  much  the  elect 
may  try  to  make  themselves  believe  it. 

"Spiritual  marriage"  rests  upon  an  altogether  different 
basis.  In  early  days  and  in  the  form  where  the  principals 
are  the  individual  and  deity,  some  mystical  interpretation  of 
figurative  language  in  scripture  formed  the  foundation  for 
the  doctrine.  The  Song  of  Solomon  has  ever  been  a  favorite 
book  for  such  mystics,  and  the  tendency  of  Roman  Catholic 
mysticism  has  ever  been  to  think  of  the  individual  rather  than 
the  church  as  the  bride  of  Christ.3 

"The  notion  of  a  spiritual  marriage  between  God  and  the 
soul  seems  to  have  come  from  the  Greek  Mysteries,  through 
the  Alexandrian  Jews  and  Gnostics.  .  .  .  And  among  the 

1  F.  M.  Davenport,  Primitive  Traits  in  Religious  Revivals,  pp.  81 
and  292. 

2  J.  Moses,  Pathological  Aspects  0}  Religions,  p.  16. 

3  For  much  that  follows  regarding  this  form  of  "spiritual  marriage," 
see  W.  R.  Inge,  Christian  Mysticism,  Appendix  D. 


436  SEXUALITY 

Jews  of  the  first  century  there  existed  a  system  of  Mysteries, 
probably  copied  from  Eleusis.  They  had  their  greater  and 
lesser  Mysteries,  and  we  hear  that  among  their  secret  doc- 
trines was  'marriage  with  God.'"  Harnack  says,  "We  can 
point  to  very  few  Greek  Fathers  in  whom  the  figure  [spiritual 
marriage]  does  not  occur." 
/  There  is  little  doubt  that  the  enforced  celibacy  and  vir- 
•  ginity  of  monks  and  nuns  led  them,  consciously  or  uncon- 
sciously, to  transfer  their  affection  to  God,  Jesus,  or  the  Vir- 
gin Mary,  and  the  sexual  impulse,  unable  to  express  itself 
naturally,  found  an  outlet  thereby.  Fenelon  said,  that  the 
contemplative  desired  "une  simple  presence  de  Dieu  pure- 
ment  amoureuse."  Ribet  classified  the  experiences  of  the 
mediaeval  saints  as  follows:  i.  "Divine  Touches"  which 
Scaramelli  defines  as  "real  but  purely  spiritual  sensations,  by 
which  the  soul  feels  the  intimate  presence  of  God,  and  tastes 
Him  with  great  delight."  2.  "The  Wound  of  Love"  which 
was  not  always  purely  spiritual.  A  post-mortem  examination 
showed  that  St.  Teresa  had  undergone  a  miraculous  "frans- 
verberation  of  the  heart,"  "et  pourtant  elle  surve"cut  pres  de 
vingt  ans  a  cette  blessure  mortelle."  3.  Catherine  of  Sienna 
was  betrothed  to  Christ  with  a  ring,  which  remained  always 
on  her  finger,  though  visible  only  to  her.  St.  Gertrude's  ex- 
periences furnish  a  culmination. 

While  both  male  and  female  mystics  show  amorous  incli- 
nations towards  Divinity,  in  this,  as  might  be  expected,  the 
female  experience  and  expression  are  more  intense.  Among 
A^the  males,  "The  Imitation  of  Christ"  abounds  in  language 
which  might  easily  be  adapted  to  sexual  love;  Ruysbroek's 
principal  work  was  on  "spiritual  nuptials";  and  Suso's  lov- 
ing nature,  like  Augustine's,  needed  an  object  of  affection. 
Of  Suso  it  was  said : 

"His   imagination   concentrated    itself   upon   the  eternal 
Wisdom,  personified  in  the  Book  of  Proverbs  in  female  form 


SEXUALITY  437 

as  a  loving  mistress,  and  the  thought  often  came  to  him, 
'Truly  thou  shouldst  make  trial  of  thy  fortune,  whether  this 
high  mistress,  of  whom  thou  hast  heard  so  much,  will  become 
thy  love;  for  in  truth  thy  wild  young  heart  will  not  remain 
without  a  tove.'  Then  in  a  vision  he  saw  her,  radiant  in  form, 
rich  in  wisdom,  and  overflowing  with  love;  it  is  she  who 
touches  the  summit  of  the  heavens,  and  the  depths  of  the 
abyss,  who  spreads  herself  from  end  to  end,  mightily  and 
sweetly  disposing  all  things.  And  she  drew  nigh  to  him  lov- 
ingly, and  said  to  him  sweetly, '  My  son,  give  me  thy  heart.' "  ' 
There  were  other  amorous  experiences  in  which  the  eternal 
wisdom  and  his  soul  took  part. 

Among  the  female  mystics  who  have  expressed  sensual 
pleasure  in  communion  with  God  are  Mme.  Guyon,  Soeur 
Jeanne  des  Anges,  St.  Catherine  of  Sienna,  Juliana  of  Nor- 
wich, Marie  de  l'lncarnation,  St.  Teresa,  and  St.  Gertrude. 
A  few  examples  of  their  experiences  will  follow.  Juliana 
ardently  desired  to  have  a  bodily  sight  of  her  Lord  upon  the 
cross  "like  other  that  were  Christ's  lovers."  She  repeatedly 
reiterated  the  words  which  she  said  the  Lord  said  unto 
her,  "I  love  thee  and  thou  lovest  Me,  and  our  love  shall 
never  be  disparted  in  two."  2  Of  St.  Teresa  it  is  said  that 
"her  idea  of  religion  seems  to  have  been  that  of  an  end- 
less amatory  flirtation  .  .  .  between  the  devotee  and  the 
deity."  3  St.  Gertrude's  experiences  are  still  more  to  the 
point. 

"Suffering  from  a  headache,  she  sought,  for  the  glory  of 
God,  to  relieve  herself  by  holding  certain  odoriferous  sub- 
stances in  her  mouth,  when  the  Lord  appeared  to  her  to  lean 
over  towards  her  lovingly,  and  to  find  comfort  Himself  in 
these  odors.    After  having  gently  breathed  them  in,  He  arose, 

1  W.  R.  Inge,  Christian  Mysticism,  p.  174. 

2  W.  R.  Inge,  Christian  Mysticism,  pp.  201  and  209. 

3  W.  James,  The  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  p.  347  /. 


438  SEXUALITY 

and  said  with  a  gratified  air  to  the  Saints,  as  if  contented  with 
what  He  had  done:  'See  the  new  present  which  My  be- 
trothed has  given  Me!' 

"One  day,  at  chapel,  she  heard  supernaturally  sung  the 
words,  'Sanctus,  Sanctus,  Sanctus.'  The  Son  of  God  lean- 
ing toward  her  like  a  sweet  lover,  and  giving  to  her  soul  the 
softest  kiss,  said  to  her  at  the  second  Sanctus :  '  In  this  Sanc- 
tus addressed  to  my  person,  receive  with  this  kiss  all  the 
sanctity  of  my  divinity  and  of  my  humanity,  and  let  it  be  to 
thee  a  sufficient  preparation  for  approaching  the  communion 
table.'  And  the  next  following  Sunday  while  she  was  thank- 
ing God  for  this  favor,  behold  the  Son  of  God,  more  beaute- 
ous than  thousands  of  angels,  takes  her  in  His  arms  as  if  He 
were  proud  of  her,  and  presents  her  to  God  the  Father,  in 
that  perfection  of  sanctity  with  which  He  had  dowered  her."  ' 

I  close  these  examples  with  a  quotation  concerning  Marie 
de  lTncarnation. 

"She  heard,  in  a  trance,  a  miraculous  voice.  It  was  that 
of  Christ  promising  to  become  her  spouse.  Months  and 
years  passed  full  of  troubled  hopes  and  fears,  when  again  the 
voice  sounded  in  her  ear,  with  assurance  that  the  promise 
was  fulfilled,  and  that  she  was  indeed  his  bride.  Now,  en- 
sued phenomena  which  are  not  infrequent  among  Roman 
Catholic  female  devotees  when  unmarried,  or  married  un- 
happily, and  which  have  their  source  in  the  necessities  of 
woman's  nature.  To  her  excited  thought,  her  divine  spouse 
became  a  living  presence;  and  her  language  to  him,  as  re- 
corded by  herself,  is  of  intense  passion.  She  went  to  prayer, 
agitated  and  tremulous,  as  if  to  a  meeting  with  an  earthly 
lover.  'Oh,  my  love!'  she  exclaimed,  'When  shall  I  embrace 
you  ?  Have  you  no  pity  on  the  torments  that  I  suffer  ?  Alas ! 
Alas!   My  love!    My  beauty!    My  life!    Instead  of  healing 

1  Revelations  de  Sainte  Gertrude,  I,  pp.  44  and  186,  quoted  by  W. 
James,  The  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  pp.  345  /. 


SEXUALITY  439 

my  pain  you  take  pleasure  in  it.  Come  let  me  embrace  you; 
and  die  in  your  sacred  arms!'"  l 

The  other  form  of  "spiritual  marriage"  was  of  a  much 
more  carnal  nature.  It  has  usually  existed  in  the  Christian 
church,  but  there  seems  to  have  been  a  spontaneous  revival 
of  this  doctrine  in  the  early  part  of  the  last  century.  There  is 
evidence  of  immorality  among  the  Gnostics  and  Manicheans 
of  the  first  centuries,  and  down  through  the  Amalricians, 
Brethren  of  the  Free  Spirit,  and  other  sects,  so  that  the  doc- 
trine seems  never  to  have  been  extinct. 

Among  those  who  believe  in  "spiritual  marriage,"  three 
reasons  are  given  for  their  action.  The  first  is  that  which  we 
have  found  to  be  the  excuse  of  those  who  indulge  in  promis- 
cuous sexual  intercourse  after  revivals,  viz.,  that  they  have 
become  perfect  and  cannot  sin.  In  the  exalted  atmosphere 
of  the  perfect  Christian  society,  relationships  become  possible 
that  would  be  scandalous  among  persons  of  less  regular  lives. 
The  Brethren  of  the  Free  Spirit  thought  they  could  not  sin 
and  that  their  passions  were  no  longer  snares  but  sanctified 
and  heavenly  powers.  They  did  not  marry,  but  one  of  their 
rewards  for  leading  a  life  of  grace  and  purity  was  the  privilege 
of  tendering  to  each  other  a  Seraphic  Kiss;  each  brother 
having  the  right  to  give  his  sister  a  chaste  salute.  In  this 
they  were  followed  later  by  the  Ebelians. 

The  second  reason  is  the  doctrine  of  affinities.  "To  true 
mates  marriage  is  not  for  the  time  only,  but  for  the  time  to 
come.  .  .  .  To  their  eyes  wedlock  is  a  covenant  of  soul  with 
soul,  made  for  all  worlds  in  which  there  is  conscious  life; 
for  the  heavens  above  no  less  than  for  the  earth  below."  2 
To  prevent  the  awful  calamity  of  an  entrance  into  heaven 

1  F.  Parkman,  The  Jesuits  of  America,  p.  175. 

2  W.  H.  Dixon,  Spiritual  Wives,  I,  p.  92  /.  I  am  indebted  to  this 
work  for  much  of  my  material  on  this  subject,  and  the  reader  is  referred 
to  it  if  he  wishes  to  pursue  a  plenary  treatment. 


44o  SEXUALITY 

with  a  wrong  mate  each  one  must  seek  his  affinity,  and, 
strange  to  say,  the  ideas  often  changed,  so  that  one  had  to  try 
many  mates  before  getting  the  right  one,  if  this  latter  was 
ever  accomplished.  Swedenborg  maintained  that  "without 
perfect  marriage,  there  is  no  perfect  rest  for  either  man  or 
woman,  even  in  heaven;  nothing  but  a  striving  of  the  soul 
after  distant  joys;  joys  which  can  never  be  attained,  except 
by  the  happy  blending  of  two  souls  in  one  everlasting  cove- 
nant of  love." 

Rev.  John  H.  Noyes,  founder  of  the  Bible  Communists  of 
Oneida  Creek,  writes  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Dixon:  "Religious 
love  is  a  very  near  neighbor  to  sexual  love,  and  they  always 
get  mixed  in  the  intimacies  and  social  excitements  of  Reviv- 
als. The  next  thing  a  man  wants,  after  he  has  found  the  sal- 
vation of  his  soul,  is  to  find  his  Eve  and  his  Paradise.  Hence 
these  wild  experiments  and  terrible  disasters."  Very  few, 
however,  found  an  Eden  at  home,  or  an  Eve  in  his  lawful  wife. 
All  earthly  ties,  they  thought,  should  be  left  behind  by  the 
saved  ones,  and  the  things  of  heaven  should  be  the  chief  bond 
between  them. 

During  a  Perfectionist  meeting  at  Manlius,  N.  Y.,  Erasmus 
Stone  related  a  vision  which  he  had  experienced  of  a  mighty 
host  of  men  and  women  in  heaven,  flying  hither  and  thither 
in  great  anxiety  seeking  their  true  mates.  So  great  was  the 
effect  of  the  recital  of  this  vision  that  the  leaders  of  the 
meeting,  Revs.  Sheldon,  Stone,  and  Rider,  all  sought  and 
found  affinities.  Shortly  afterwards  they  left  these  and 
found  others.  At  first  such  unions  were  to  be  of  a  purely 
spiritual  character,  but,  of  course,  in  the  end  they  became 
sexual;  the  spiritual  union  was  found  to  be  incomplete,  and 
it  assumed  the  ordinary  character  of  that  which  exists  be- 
tween man  and  woman  who  live  together  in  close  intimacy. 

The  third  argument  is  biblical,  and  i  Cor.  9  :  5  is  the  pas- 
sage quoted  and  used  as  a  warrant  for  the  doctrine.    The 


SEXUALITY  441 

Pauline  church  of  Massachusetts  and  New  York  claimed 
that  the  woman  referred  to  in  this  passage  was  a  "spiritual 
wife"  of  St.  Paul's,  and  hence  to  follow  the  great  apostle  this 
action  is  allowable  and  praiseworthy.  Among  many  who 
espouse  this  doctrine  the  Song  of  Solomon  is  the  favorite  c 
book. 

In  regard  to  the  revival  of  this  doctrine  in  the  early  part  of 
last  century,  I  can  do  no  better  than  to  quote  the  following : 

"Three  of  the  most  singular  movements  in  the  churches  of 
our  generation  [the  edition  from  which  I  quote  was  printed  in 
1868]  seem  to  have  been  connected,  more  or  less  closely,  with 
the  state  of  mind  produced  by  revivals;  one  in  Germany,  one 
in  England,  and  one  in  the  United  States;  movements  which 
resulted,  among  other  things,  in  the  establishment  of  three 
singular  societies — the  congregation  of  Pietists,  vulgarly  called 
the  Mucker,  at  Konigsberg,  the  brotherhood  of  Princeites  at 
Spaxton,  and  the  Bible  Communists  at  Oneida  Creek. 

"These  three  movements,  which  have  a  great  deal  in  com- 
mon, began  without  concert,  in  distant  parts  of  the  world, 
under  separate  church  rules,  and  in  widely  different  social 
circumstances.  The  first  movement  was  in  Ost  Preussen; 
the  second  in  England;  the  third,  the  most  important,  in 
Massachusetts  and  New  York.  They  had  these  chief  things 
in  common :  they  began  in  colleges,  they  affected  the  form  of 
family  life,  and  they  were  carried  on  by  clergymen;  each 
movement  in  a  place  of  learning  and  of  theological  study;'6"' 
that  in  Germany  at  Luther-Kirch  of  Konigsberg,  that  in 
England  at  St.  David's  College,  that  in  the  United  States  at 
-Yale  College.  These  movements  began  to  attract  public 
/notice  much  about  the  same  time;  for  Archdeacon  Ebel,  the 
chief  founder  of  Muckerism,  announced  the  year  1836  as  the 
opening  year  of  the  personal  reign  of  Christ;  in  that  year  the 
Rev.  Henry  James  Prince  became  a  student  of  divinity, 
founded  the  order  of  Lampeter  Brethren,  and  received  his 


442  SEXUALITY 

pretended  gift  of  the  Holy  Ghost;  and  Father  Noyes  pub- 
lished the  famous  paper  known  as  the  Battle  Axe  Letter. 
These  three  divines,  one  Lutheran,  one  Anglican,  one  Con- 
gregational, began  their  work  in  perfect  ignorance  of  each 
other.  .  .  . 

"Each  movement  was  regarded  by  its  votaries  as  the 
most  perfect  fruit  of  the  revival  spirit.  .  .  .  These  fruits  of 
the  revival  seem  to  have  been  equally  received  by  the  count- 
ess who  knelt  at  the  feet  of  Ebel  in  Ost  Preussen,  by  the 
dowagers  and  country  gentlemen  who  swelled  the  ranks  of 
Prince  in  Sussex  and  Somerset,  by  the  craftsmen  who  fol- 
lowed Noyes  and  Sheldon  in  Massachusetts  and  New  York. 
They  who  had  been  called  by  the  Lamb,  no  longer  dwelt  on 
earth,  subject  to  its  laws  and  canons;  they  were  no  longer 
amenable  to  pain,  disease,  and  death.  They  had  risen  into 
a  sphere  of  gospel  liberty  and  gospel  light.  A  new  earth  and 
a  new  heaven  had  been  created  round  them,  in  which  they 
lived  and  moved  by  a  new  law.  To  some  of  them  the  decrees 
of  courts  and  councils  were  as  nothing;  property  was  noth- 
ing, marriage  was  nothing— mere  rags  and  shreds  of  a  world 
that  had  passed  away.  To  all  of  them  a  new  light  had  been 
given  on  the  subject  of  spirit-brides;  the  higher  relation  of 
woman  to  man  in  the  new  kingdom  of  heaven."  1 

So  much  for  the  spontaneous  revival  in  Germany,  Eng- 
land, and  America,  but  what  further  can  be  said  of  the  doc- 
trine and  its  progress  ?  In  Europe  it  was  hindered  by  the 
stern  hand  of  the  state,  and  its  appearance  was  more  often 
mixed  with  philosophy  and  with  theology  than  with  practice. 

"The  doctrine  of  Natural  Mates  and  Spiritual  Love  be- 
tween the  sexes  is  an  old  Gothic  doctrine;  one  which  pub- 
lished itself  in  the  great  Fraternity  of  the  Free  Spirit;  which 
startled  mankind  in  the  conduct  of  John  of  Leyden;  which 
appeared  in  the  sermons  and  practice  of  Ann  Lee;   which 

1  W.  H.  Dixon,  Spiritual  Wives,  I,  pp.  84-87. 


SEXUALITY  443 

took  a  special  form  in  the  speculations  of  Emmanuel  Sweden- 
borg;  which  found  voice  in  the  artistic  work  of  Wolfgang  von 
Gothe.  This  doctrine  was  known  in  Augsburg  and  Leyden, 
in  Manchester  and  Stockholm,  in  Frankfort  and  Weimar, 
long  before  it  was  heard  of  in  New  Haven  and  New  York." 

"This  tradition  [of  the  superior  rights  and  felicities  con- 
ferred by  a  marriage  of  souls]  has  proved  its  existence  in 
many  ways;  sometimes  cropping  out  in  theory,  sometimes  in 
practice;  here  breaking  out  into  license  with  Hans  Matthie- 
son,  there  dreaming  off  into  fantasy  with  Jacob  Bohme.  Un- 
xder  John  of  Leyden  it  took  the  shape  of  polygamy;  under 
Gerhard  Tersteegen  that  of  personal  union  with  the  Holy 
Ghost.  Swedenborg  gave  to  it  a  large  extension,  a  definite 
form,  and  even  a  body  of  rules.  Ann  Lee  made  use  of  it 
in  her  project  for  introducing  a  female  messiah,  and  estab- 
lishing on  the  new  earth  her  dogma  of  the  leadership  of 
woman.  Gothe,  who  seized  so  much  of  the  finer  spirit  of 
his  race,  made  this  tradition  of  natural  mates  assist,  if  not 
the  ends  of  his  philosophy,  at  least  the  purposes  of  his  art."  1 

In  America,  on  account  of  the  freedom  of  speech  and 
action,  the  doctrine  spread  much  more  widely.  In  Massa- 
chusetts, Brimfield  was  the  centre.  It  was  here  that  Dr. 
Gridley,  one  of  the  leaders,  boasted  that  he  "could  carry  a 
virgin  in  each  hand  without  the  least  stir  of  unholy  passion." 
The  Bundling  Perfectionism  finally  ended  in  the  doctrine  of 
affinities  and  the  practice  of  spiritual  marriage. 

The  starting  point  of  Mormonism,  be  it  remembered,  was^ 
^the  "burnt  district"  of  New  York  State.  The  order  of 
things  in  Mormonism  was  the  same  as  among  the  Bundling 
Perfectionists.  Religion  with  its  revivals  and  conversion  of 
souls  came  first,  but  this  led  to  a  socialism  which  incorporated 
Spiritual  Wifehood  and  finally  Polygamy.  The  completion 
of  the  development  in  this  case  seems  to  have  acquired  two 

1  W.  H.  Dixon,  Spiritual  Wives,  II,  pp.  188  /. 


444  SEXUALITY 

generations  of  leaders:  Joseph  Smith  laid  the  religious 
foundations,  and  Brigham  Young  perfected  Polygamy. 

The  gist  of  the  famous  Battle  Axe  Letter  is  found  in  the 
sentence  where  Noyes  said:  "In  a  holy  community  there  is 
no  more  reason  why  sexual  intercourse  should  be  restrained 
by  law,  than  why  eating  and  drinking  should  be;  and  there 
is  as  little  occasion  for  shame  in  the  one  case  as  in  the  other." 
The  publication  of  this  document  made  a  commotion  hardly 
less  startling  than  the  Brimfield  affair,  and  resulted  in  the 
complex  marriages  of  the  Wallingford  and  Oneida  Creek 
communities.  Following  the  lead  of  Ann  Lee,  the  Shakers 
founded  their  colony  at  Mount  Lebanon  where  the  doctrine 
of  a  chaste  Celibate  Love  is  proclaimed  and  presumably 
practised. 

Andrew  Jackson  Davis,  a  cobbler  of  Poughkeepsie,  N.  Y., 
wrote  "The  Great  Harmonia,"  a  parody,  of  Swedenborg's 
mystical  dreams,  and  advocated  the  doctrines  of  free  mar- 
riage and  spiritualism.  Since  that  time  the  teaching  of 
"affinities"  has  become  a  part  of  Spiritualism;  many  Spirit- 
ualists endeavor  to  find  their  affinities.  In  addition  to  these 
more  pronounced  movements,  in  a  hundred  cities  of  America, 
some  more  or  less  open  forms  of  Free  Love  have  appeared 
and  have  been  undoubtedly  encouraged  by  the  teachings  of 
those  who  sought  after  the  better  life  and  formed  irregular 
unions  for  that  purpose. 

We  can  thus  see  how  the  doctrine  of  "spiritual  marriage" 
may  bring  forth  a  great  variety  of  fruits:  at  Salt  Lake  City 
we  find  Polygamy;  among  the  Spiritualists  "Affinities";  at 
Mount  Lebanon,  Celibate  Love;  at  Wallingford  and  Oneida 
Creek^  Complex  Marriage;  and  in  many  places,  some  more 
or  less  open  form  of  Free  Love. 

The  other  sexual  extreme  is  continence,  and  is  found  to  be 
connected  with  religion  even  more  widely  than  excess.  It 
has  taken  two  forms  according  as  the  surety  for  the  conti- 


SEXUALITY  445 

nence  was  castration  or  vows.  Among  the  ancients  and 
Indians  of  America  castration  was  performed  as  a  sacrifice 
to  the  gods,  as  the  most  sacred  gift.  To-day  it  may  be  con- 
sidered as  an  obsolete  doctrine  among  Christians.  The 
Skoptsy,  a  contemporary  Russian  sect,  is  the  exception,  for 
this  forms  the  fundamental  tenet  of  their  belief.1  In  justifi- 
cation of  their  action  they  quote  Jesus'  words  as  recorded  in 
Matt.  19  :  12,  "and  there  are  eunuchs  which  made  themselves 
eunuchs  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven's  sake."  By  this  means 
all  carnal  promptings  are  stifled  and  worldly  affairs  are  re- 
nounced so  that  they  can  attend  to  spiritual  things  only. 
True,  sexual  passions  are  eradicated  by  this  means,  but  the 
gain  is  not  commensurate  with  the  loss.  We  are  told  that 
eunuchs  are  cowardly,  envious,  untruthful,  deceitful,  and 
devoid  of  all  social  feelings.2 

The  cause  of  the  change  is  somewhat  in  dispute.  Do  the 
sexual  organs  furnish  some  element  to  the  blood  which 
changes  the  brain  and  thereby  acts  upon  the  mind  so  as  to 
allow  it  to  function  in  a  normally  religious  manner?  Or  is 
it  that  the  secreting  power  of  the  sexual  organs  withdraws 
from  the  blood  some  element  which  is  detrimental  to  the 
normal  action  of  the  mind  ?  Whatever  the  cause,  the  result 
is  evident.  We  see  the  great  difference  in  the  lower  animals. 
The  ox  is  smaller,  his  neck  is  more  slender,  and  in  other  ways 
his  body  is  much  changed;  but  above  all,  the  change  in  dis- 
position is  most  noticeable.  He  is  kind,  docile,  and  easily 
led,  compared  with  the  ugly,  tricky,  and  dangerous  brute 
which  he  might  otherwise  have  been.  The  bull  is  the  normal, 
the  ox  the  abnormal,  but  the  change  brought  about  by  cas- 
tration is  what  I  wish  to  emphasize.  The  change  in  man  is 
undoubtedly  as  great,  and  undoubtedly  undesirable. 

1  J.  Moses,  Pathological  Aspects  0}  Religions,  p.  32;  H.  Ellis,  Man  and 
Woman,  p.  291. 

8  H.  Maudsley,  Pathology  0}  Mind,  pp.  453  ft. 


446  SEXUALITY 

There  is  a  belief,  very  old  and  of  doubtful  origin,  that  cas- 
tration is  followed  by  the  sudden  appearance  of  characteris- 
tics of  the  other  sex.1  This  has  probably  no  basis  in  fact, 
but  the  correct  statement  is  that  the  secondary  sexual  char- 
acteristics tend  to  remain  undeveloped.2  In  the  male 
human  species,  at  least,  this  would  be  equivalent  in  some 
respects  to  the  appearance  of  the  physical  characteristics 
of  the  opposite  sex,  but  it  does  not  in  the  least  apply  to  the 
mental  traits.  It  unsexes  man  mentally  rather  than  re-sexes 
him. 

The  other  form  of  continence  is  protected  by  vows  and  is 
seen  in  the  celibacy  of  the  clergy,  monks,  and  nuns.  While 
the  example  of  pagan  religions  must  have  had  some  influence 
in  this  direction,  there  were  special  reasons  which  may  be 
enumerated  why  the  Christian  Church  adopted  the  idea  of 
the  value  of  celibacy.  It  was  quite  common  to  quote  the  ex- 
ample of  the  chief  figures  in  the  Christian  church :  the  belief 
in  the  perpetual  virginity  of  Mary  was  current,  and  the  celi- 
bate life  of  John  the  Baptist  and  Jesus  was  pointed  to  with 
pride.  The  fact  that  St.  Peter,  to  whom  a  general  primacy 
was  early  ascribed,  was  unquestionably  married  was  a  diffi- 
culty which,  it  was  hoped,  would  be  nullified  by  the  tradition 
that  both  he  and  the  other  married  apostles  abstained  from 
intercourse  with  their  wives  after  their  conversion.  St. 
Paul  was  probably  unmarried  and  his  writings,  which  showed 
a  decided  preference  for  the  unmarried  state,  were  always 
exhibited  and  not  infrequently  exaggerated. 

Coupled  with  this  we  find  a  second  reason,  viz.,  woman 
per  se  was  considered  an  evil.  The  monks  especially  shunned 
women.  St.  Basil  would  only  speak  to  a  woman  under  ex- 
treme necessity;  St.  John  of  Lycopolis  had  not  seen  a  woman 
for  forty-eight  years.     "So  far  as  possible,"  says  Isadore, 

1  O.  Weininger,  Sex  and  Character,  p.  18  /. 

2  Geddes  and  Thompson,  The  Evolution  of  Sex,  p.  23. 


SEXUALITY  447 

"all  converse  with  women  is  to  be  shunned — or,  if  this  can- 
not altogether  be  avoided,  they  shall  be  spoken  with  only,  the 
eyes  fixed  on  the  earth.  ...  In  the  case  of  almost  all  who 
have  fallen  by  their  means,  death  hath  entered  in  by  the  win- 
dows!" '  Dom  Guigo,  of  the  Carthusians,  said,  "Under  no 
circumstances  whatever  do  we  allow  woman  to  set  foot 
within  our  precincts,  knowing  as  we  do  that  neither  wise 
man,  nor  prophet,  nor  judge,  nor  the  entertainers  of  God, 
nor  the  Sons  of  God,  nor  the  first  created  of  mankind,  fashioned 
by  God's  own  hands,  could  escape  the  wiles  and  deceits  of 
women." 

Women  were  represented  as  the  door  of  hell,  and  as  the 
mother  of  all  human  ills;  all  sorts  of  insults  were  heaped 
upon  them,  and  the  complete  inferiority  of  the  sex  was  con- 
tinually maintained  by  law.  The  sudden  upheaval  of  pas- 
sion experienced  by  monks  at  the  sight  or  touch  of  women 
and  due,  of  course,  to  the  unnatural  inhibition  which  they 
endeavored  to  force  upon  themselves,  was  charged  to  the  de- 
moniacal nature  of  women.  To  laymen,  who  read  of  Jesus' 
mission  at  the  marriage,  the  reproach  that  He  readily  mixed 
with  the  world,  and  His  choice  of  women  as  among  His  most 
devout  followers,  the  doctrine  of  celibacy  and  the  inherent 
diabolism  of  women  seemed  at  variance  with  the  example  of 
the  Master. 

"Of  our  Lord  it  is  said  that  he  was  continually  accom- 
panied in  his  journeys  by  women  who  'ministered  unto  Him.' 
But  the  doctors  of  monkery  assure  us  that  the  society  of 
woman  is  altogether  pernicious,  and  is  wholly  incompatible 
with  advancement  in  the  Christian  life;  yes,  that  the  mere 
touch  of  a  female  hand  is  mortal  to  sanctity!  The  sanctity 
of  the  monk,  then,  and  the  purity  of  the  Son  of  God  had  not, 
it  is  manifest,  any  kindred  elements.  Of  the  Apostles  and 
first  disciples  it  is  said  that  they  consorted  together  '  with  the 

1  Lib.  I,  Epis.  67. 


448  SEXUALITY 

women';  and  throughout  the  history  of  the  Acts  nothing 
appears  to  have  attached  to  the  manners  of  the  Christians 
that  was  at  variance  with  the  genuine  simplicity  and  inno- 
cence which  is  characteristic  of  a  virtuous  intercourse  of  the 
sexes."  * 

It  was  concerning  the  difference  of  opinion  about  women 
that  the  dispute  arose  between  the  north  and  the  south  of 
Europe  regarding  celibacy.  The  south  said  its  worst  of 
women,  and  thought  it  a  duty  to  eschew  them.  "A  girl  was 
represented  as  a  serpent,  in  which  there  was  a  lurking  demon. 
At  her  best  she  was  only  a  fury  and  a  cheat.  All  the  worst 
things  in  earth  and  heaven  were  feminine;  ...  the  Vices 
were  feminine,  the  Fates  were  feminine.  Eve  ate  the  apple, 
the  daughters  of  Lot  debauched  their  sire,  Asenath  tempted 
Joseph,  Bathsheba  led  David  into  sin.  Concubines  were 
the  curse  of  Solomon.  From  first  to  last  woman  had  been  a 
danger  and  delusion  to  the  unsuspecting  eye.  Her  heart  was 
vain,  her  head  was  light;  she  was  a  thing  of  paint  and 
patches,  of  bangles  and  braids.  Her  eyes  were  bent  to  entice, 
her  feet  were  swift  to  go  wrong,  her  words  were  softened  to 
deceive.  Her  veins  were  full  of  fire,  and  those  who  came  near 
her  were  always  scorched.  Her  thoughts  were  unchaste;  her 
mouth  was  greedy  for  wine;  she  threw  out  her  lines  to  entice 
men's  souls.  Painted  and  perfumed  like  a  harlot  she  sat  in 
the  porches  and  the  gateways  ready  to  make  barter  of  her 
charms.  All  her  passions  were  seductive,  all  her  inclinings  for 
evil.  Her  touch  was  a  taint,  her  very  breath  was  unclean. 
Nay,  the  desires  of  her  heart  were  unnatural  and  demoniac; 
since  she  preferred  a  demon  lover  to  a  handsome  youth  of 
mortal  parentage,  and  would  yield  her  beauty  to  an  imp  of 
darkness  rather  than  to  a  holy  saint. 

"Men  of  the  Gothic  race,  on  the  other  side,  held  woman  in 
the  highest  reverence.    Taken  as  either  a  mother  or  a  wife, 

1 1.  Taylor,  Fanaticism,  p.  106  /. 


SEXUALITY  449 

they  looked  on  her,  habitually,  as  something  finer  and  more 
precious  than  themselves.  In  their  simple  souls  they  imag- 
ined that  the  best  of  men  must  be  all  the  better  for  having 
won  a  good  woman's  love;  nay,  that  a  wise  husband  and 
father  would  be  more  likely  to  make  a  good  pastor,'  than  a 
recluse  who  had  neither  wife  to  soften,  nor  child  to  instruct 
his  heart.  An  old  and  mystic  sentiment  of  their  race  inclined 
them  to  believe  that  women  have  a  quicker  sense  and  keener 
enjoyment  of  spiritual  things  than  men;  hence  they  never 
could  be  made  to  see  how  the  separation  of  priests  from  the 
daily  and  domestic  company  of  women  should  work  for 
good.  In  their  old  mythologies  women  had  a  high  and  almost 
sacred  place.  .  .  .  "  l 

The  south  triumphed  for  a  season,  but  the  world  has  rec- 
ognized that  the  feminine  part  of  human  nature  is  not  so  de- 
graded and  degrading  that  the  man  who  loves  the  society  of 
a  wife  is  thereby  unfitted  to  approach  the  altar  of  God.  Not- 
withstanding the  bitter  feeling  on  the  part  of  the  monks,  it 
appears  that  there  was  always  a  respect  for  women  who  had 
taken  a  vow  of  virginity.  "The  most  esteemed  writers,  from 
Cyprian  back  as  far  as  Justin  Martyr,  give  special  honor  to  the 
class  of  women  who,  from  early  times,  chose  to  remain  single 
and  to  devote  themselves  to  doing  good.  Consecration  to 
virginity  by  a  vow  solemnly  taken,  which  it  was  a  great  sin  to 
violate,  was  an  established  custom  in  Cyprian's  time.  The 
order  of  virgins  continued.  In  the  fourth  century  it  was 
already  the  custom  for  them  to  wear  a  dark-colored  dress 
and  to  be  invested  by  the  hands  of  the  bishop  with  a  bridal 
veil,  a  symbol  that  they  were  wedded  to  the  Lord.  It  may  be 
here  added  that  an  order  of  widows,  distinct  from  the  class 
of  poor  widows  noticed  in  the  Pastoral  Epistles,  appears  in 
the  fourth  century.  They  are  pledged  to  remain  unmarried 
and  to  devote  themselves  to  doing  good.     From  them  the 

1  W.  H.  Dixon,  Spiritual  Wives,  II,  pp.  278-280. 


450  SEXUALITY 

class  of  deaconesses  was  often  recruited,  the  duties  of  both 
classes  being  similar."  * 

But  further,  there  was  a  certain  mystical  exaltation  of  the 
unmarried  state  whereby  the  celibate  considered  this  the 
highest  spiritual  attainment.  It  was  a  praiseworthy  act  of 
self-denial.2  The  central  and  distinctive  virtue  of  the  New 
Testament  was  undoubtedly  love;  not  so  with  the  mediaeval 
church;  chastity  was  the  ideal  state.  This,  however,  did  not 
refer  to  the  purity  of  undefiled  marriage,  but  the  absolute  sup- 
pression of  the  sensuous  side  of  nature  by  the  perpetual 
struggle  against  all  carnal  impulses. 

What  advantage  was  gained  by  impressing  the  minds  of 
men  with  the  importance  of  chastity  was  more  than  counter- 
balanced by  the  pernicious  influence  upon  marriage.  Only 
the  lowest  aspects  of  marriage  were  discussed ;  the  love  elicited 
and  the  holy  and  beautiful  domestic  qualities  inspired  were 
apparently  unthought  of.  "It  is  remarkable  how  rarely,  if 
ever  (I  cannot  call  to  mind  an  instance),  in  the  discussion  of 
the  comparative  merits  of  marriage  and  celibacy,  the  social 
advantages  appear  to  have  occurred  to  the  mind.  ...  It  is 
always  argued  with  relation  to  the  interests  and  the  perfection 
of  the  individual  soul;  and,  even  with  regard  to  that,  the 
writers  seem  almost  unconscious  of  the  softening  and  human- 
izing effect  of  the  natural  affections,  the  beauty  of  parental 
tenderness  and  filial  love."  3  The  effect  on  married  persons 
of  any  devoutness  seemed  to  have  been  to  make  it  impossible 
for  them  to  live  together  longer,  and  the  church  frowned 
upon  any  thought  of  a  second  marriage.4   Of  not  a  little  influ- 

1  G.  P.  Fisher,  History  of  the  Christian  Church,  p.  62. 

2  See  A.  V.  G.  Allen,  Christian  Institutions,  p.  162;  G.  P.  Fisher, 
History  of  the  Christian  Church,  p.  62;  W.  E.  H.  Lecky,  History  of 
European  Morals,  II,  p.  122. 

3  H.  H.  Milman,  History  of  Christianity,  III,  p.  196. 

4  W.  E.  H.  Lecky,  History  of  European  Morals,  II,  pp.  322- 
324- 


SEXUALITY  451 

ence  upon  the  idea  that  celibacy  engendered  an  exalted  spir- 
itual state  was  the  example  of  men  who  by  temperament 
were  not  inclined  to  marriage  and  devoted  themselves  with 
great  zeal  to  the  work  of  the  church. 

"The  true  extent  of  the  violence  done  to  human  nature  by 
the  practice  of  religious  celibacy  has  been  in  a  great  measure 
concealed  from  notice  by  a  partial  fact  which  seems  to  excuse 
it.  It  is  always  true  that,  in  a  body  of  men  taken  at  random, 
a  certain  number  will  be  found — we  need  not  hazard  a  con- 
jecture as  to  the  amount,  to  whom,  from  peculiarity  of  tem- 
perament, a  life  of  celibacy  cannot  be  deemed  unnatural,  and 
to  whom  it  will  be  no  grievance.  At  least  it  may  be  affirmed 
as  such,  that  some  moderate  and  accidental  motive  of  pru- 
dence, or  taste,  or  the  vexations  of  an  early  disappointment; 
or  perhaps  a  praiseworthy  regard  to  the  welfare  of  relatives, 
will  abundantly  suffice  to  reconcile  them  to  their  singular  lot. 
Then  beyond  this  small  circle  there  will  be  a  wider  one,  in- 
cluding not  a  very  few,  to  whom  a  motive  some  degrees 
stronger  will  prove  efficient  to  the  same  end.  A  vigorous 
selfishness,  for  example,  abhorrent  of  disturbance  in  its  com- 
forts, or  fearful  of  the  diminution  of  its  dainties,  will  answer 
such  a  purpose;  and  are  there  not  those  who  would  never 
marry  lest  they  should  be  compelled  to  dine  less  sumptuously  ? 
Or  a  strong  intellectual  taste  produces  the  same  effect :  there 
have  been  artists  and  philosophers,  many;  indeed,  some  of  the 
most  illustrious  of  men,  who,  having  wedded  a  fair  ideal, 
have  sought  no  other  love.  Still  more,  the  powerful  senti- 
ments of  religion  have,  in  very  many  instances,  and  in  a 
manner  not  culpable — sometimes  commendable — separated 
men  from  the  ordinary  lot,  and  rendered  them  in  a  gen- 
uine sense  virtuous,  as  well  as  happy,  in  single  life.  Such 
cases — exceptions  made  without  violence,  it  is  proper 
to  take  account  of;  they  are  Nature's  exceptions,  and 
those  who  come  fairly  under  the  description  might  be  styled 


452 


SEXUALITY 


a  physical  aristocracy,  born  to  illustrate  the  supremacy  of 
mind."  l 

Unfortunately,  the  Roman  system  is  not  eclectic;  it  takes 
all  temperaments,  and  does  not  restrict  itself  to  the  frigid 
class  upon  whom  celibacy  would  fall  most  lightly.  If  willing 
to  do  this  it  would  be  exceedingly  difficult,  for  the  decision  to 
take  orders  is  made  before  character  is  really  settled,  usually 
at  about  the  age  of  eighteen. 

From  the  standpoint  of  the  church,  the  value  of  clerical 
celibacy  was  as  a  supposed  remedy  for  clerical  licentiousness. 
The  celibacy  of  the  clergy  was  the  great  victory  of  monasti- 
cism,  and  to  the  Clugny  monks  much  of  the  credit  for  this 
victory  should  be  ascribed.  Unfortunately,  the  victory  was 
a  signal  defeat,  for  the  clergy  were  no  more  faithful  to  their 
vows  than  the  monks.  The  monks  and  clergy  took  the  vow 
of  celibacy  and  called  it  chastity,  and  the  result,  as  all  would 
expect,  was  such  disastrous  moral  failure  and  collapse  as  to 
cast  a  discredit  on  monasticism  from  which  it  has  not  yet  re- 
covered, and  the  church  has  not  entirely  escaped.  Men  who 
would  have  possessed  an  ordinarily  pure  mind  in  some  useful 
occupation  of  life,  became  the  prey  of  the  most  lewd  and  ob- 
noxious imaginations.  They  then  fancied  themselves  vile 
above  their  fellowmen,  and  laid  on  more  stripes,  fasted  more 
hours,  and  put  more  nails  in  their  garments,  only  to  find  that 
instead  of  fleeing,  the  devils  became  blacker  and  more  nu- 
merous. The  puny,  emaciated  body  which  most  of  the  saints 
desired  to  possess,  gave  no  advantage  in  the  struggle  with  the 
carnal  nature.  Their  austerities  were  a  failure,  for  in  many 
cases  the  passions  were  stronger,  and  in  all  cases  the  self- 
control  was  less. 

Intellectual  precocity,  with  its  attendant  irritable  delicacy, 
or  debility  of  constitution,  was  often  the  reason  for  taking 
orders,  and  these  are  the  very  cases  upon  which  most  vio- 

1 1.  Taylor,  Fanaticism,  p.  154  /. 


SEXUALITY  453 

lence  would  be  perpetrated.  Instead  of  peace  as  the  result  of 
the  irrevocable  oath,  a  tempest  of  passion  raged  in  the  bosom 
— a  tempest  so  much  the  more  afflictive  because  it  could  gain 
no  vent.  In  the  clergy  more  than  in  the  monk  the  duty  of  the 
confessional  aggravated  this. 

"But  what  must  be  thought  of  auricular  confession  when 
he  into  whose  prurient  ear  it  is  poured  lives  under  the  irrita- 
tion of  a  vow  of  virginity!  The  wretched  being  within  whose 
bosom  distorted  passions  are  rankling  is  called  daily  to  listen 
to  tales  of  licentiousness  from  his  own  sex  .  .  .  and,  infinitely 
worse,  to  the  reluctant,  or  the  shameless  disclosures  of  the 
other!  Let  the  female  penitent  be  of  what  class  she  may, 
simple  hearted,  or  lax,  the  repetition  of  her  dishonor,  while  it 
must  seal  the  moral  mischief  of  the  offense  upon  herself,  even 
if  the  auditor  were  a  woman,  enhances  it  beyond  measure 
when  the  instincts  of  nature  are  violated  by  making  the  re- 
cital to  a  man.  But  shall  we  imagine  the  effect  upon  the  sen- 
timents of  him  who  receives  the  confession?  Each  sinner 
makes  but  one  confession  in  a  given  time,  but  each  priest  in 
the  same  space  listens  to  a  hundred !  What,  then,  after  a  while 
must  that  receptacle  have  become  into  which  the  continual 
droppings  of  all  the  debauchery  of  a  parish  are  falling,  and 
through  which  the  copious  abomination  filters."  * 

What  was  the  moral  result?  Open  scandals  and  shame- 
less bigamy  and  concubinage  were  too  common  to  attract 
attention.  Nunneries  were  like  brothels;  unnatural  love 
lingered  in  monasteries;  in  1130  an  abbot  in  Spain  was 
proved  to  have  kept  no  less  than  seventy  concubines;  in  1274 
the  Bishop  of  Liege  was  deposed  for  having  sixty-five  illegiti- 
mate children;  Pope  John  XXIII  was  condemned  among 
other  crimes  for  incest  and  for  adultery. 

"It  is  a  popular  illusion,  which  is  especially  common 
among  writers  who  have  little  direct  knowledge  of  the  middle 

1 1.  Taylor,  Fanaticism,  p.  174  /. 


454  SEXUALITY 

ages,  that  the  atrocious  immorality  of  monasteries,  in  the 
century  before  the  Reformation,  was  a  new  fact,  and  that  the 
ages  when  the  faith  of  men  was  undisturbed  were  ages  of  great 
moral  purity.  In  fact,  it  appears,  from  the  uniform  testi- 
mony of  the  ecclesiastical  writers,  that  ecclesiastical  immo- 
rality in  the  eighth  and  three  following  centuries  was  little  if  at 
all  less  outrageous  than  in  any  other  period,  while  the  Pa- 
pacy, during  almost  the  whole  of  the  tenth  century,  was  held 
by  men  of  infamous  lives.  Simony  was  nearly  universal. 
Barbarian  chieftains  married  at  an  early  age,  and  totally  in- 
capable of  restraint,  occupied  the  leading  positions  in  the 
church,  and  gross  irregularities  speedily  became  general. 
An  Italian  bishop  of  the  tenth  century  epigrammatically 
described  the  morals  of  his  time,  when  he  declared,  that  if  he 
were  to  enforce  the  canons  against  unchaste  people  admin- 
istering ecclesiastical  rites,  no  one  would  be  left  in  the  church 
except  the  boys ;  and  if  he  were  to  observe  the  canons  against 
bastards,  these  also  must  be  excluded." l 

It  is  only  just  to  say  that  in  the  most  degenerate  times  there 
were  a  few  who  held  rigidly  to  their  vows,  and  in  some  cases 
the  object  of  their  vows  was  accomplished,  if  we  can  trust 
the  contemporaneous  accounts.  Evagrius  describes,  with 
much  admiration,  how  certain  monks  of  Palestine,  by  "a  life 
wholly  excellent  and  divine,"  had  so  overcome  their  passions 
that  they  were  accustomed  to  bathe  with  women;  for  "neither 
sight  nor  touch,  nor  a  woman's  embrace,  could  make  them 
relapse  into  their  natural  condition."  It  is  also  true  that  after 
a  struggle  absolute  sexual  suppression  was  achieved  in  a  few 
cases,  which  caused  a  greater  intensity  of  spiritual  fervor. 
The  emotions  being  dammed  up  on  one  side  burst  out  in  an- 
other direction.  This  direction  cannot  always  be  guided, 
however,  nor  can  we  always  tell,  when  we  tamper  with  nat- 
ural impulses,  how  it  will  affect  the  other  psychic  factors. 

1  W.  E.  H.  Lecky,  History  oj  European  Morals,  II,  p.  329  /. 


SEXUALITY  455 

If  the  spirit  is  baffled  in  its  first  desires,  and  defeated,  not 
subdued,  it  may  suddenly  meet  a  new  excitement  of  a  differ- 
ent order,  and  combining  with  the  novel  element,  rush  on 
ungovernable.  May  we  not  then  believe  that  some  of  the 
most  portentous  exhibitions  of  ungovernable  violence  in  his- 
tory have  been  the  perversion  of  some  long-suppressed  pas- 
sion which  suddenly  found  an  outlet  ?  Certain  extreme  cases 
of  religious  ferocity  might  be  explained  on  this  principle;  then 
the  mystery  of  the  union  of  virtue  and  piety  ( ?)  with  a  hor- 
rible cruelty  of  temper  would  be  elucidated.  It  is  certainly 
true  that  whatever  tender  and  compassionate  influences  may 
come  from  a  wife  and  family  (and  they  are  not  a  little)  would 
be  lost  by  the  celibate,  and  hence  this  factor  would  not  be 
present  to  restrain  him. 

One  other  cause  which  may  have  had  some  influence  on 
the  adoption  of  continence  was  the  tendency  which  it  gave  to 
morbid  conditions  when  observed.  Under  this  rule  religion 
assumed  a  very  sombre  hue.  The  business  of  the  saint  was 
to  eradicate  a  natural  appetite  and  to  become  abnormal. 
Morbid  introspection  and  hallucinations  resulted.  In  early 
days  all  abnormal  conditions  were  considered  to  be  signal 
favors  from  God,  and  the  celibate  was  the  recipient  of  these.1 

1  In  addition  to  the  references  already  given  in  this  chapter,  see  T. 
Schroeder,  "  Religion  and  Sensualism  as  connected  by  Clergymen," 
American  Journal  of  Religious  Psychology  and  Education,  III,  pp. 
16-28. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

DENOMINATIONALISM 

"A  plague  of  opinion!     A  man  may  wear  it  on  both  sides,  like 
a  leather  jerkin." — Shakespeare. 

The  trees  in  the  oak  grove,  the  nestlings  in  the  robin's 
brood,  the  cattle  upon  the  thousand  hills,  and  the  children 
around  the  family  table  indicate  very  clearly  that  individuals 
of  the  same  species  are  very  much  alike  and  yet  quite  differ- 
ent. Not  only  the  bodies  but  the  minds  of  men  show  these 
two  characteristics.  These  striking  similarities  and  con- 
comitant wide  divergencies  are  the  marvel  of  God's  universe. 
To  the  former  fact  is  due  the  possibility  of  a  common  re- 
ligion, to  the  latter,  the  necessity  of  different  denominations. 

The  dream  of  the  idealist,  that  denominations  at  some 
time  will  be  a  memory  of  the  past,  is  a  will-o'-the-wisp.  It 
recedes  as  one  advances,  and  at  the  moment  you  catch  it,  be- 
hold it  is  lost.  Supposing  the  possibility  of  one  church,  what 
conditions  would  exist?  It  would  be  but  a  name  and  no 
more  of  a  reality  than  at  present.  The  Methodist  would 
still  cling  to  his  methods,  the  Presbyterian  to  his  presbytery, 
the  Baptist  to  his  baptism,  the  Episcopalian  to  his  episcopus, 
and  the  Congregationalist  to  his  congregational  government. 
Birds  of  a  feather  would  continue  to  flock  together,  and  the 
real  conditions  would  not  be  changed. 

Why  not  have  one  church?  Are  the  perversity  and  stub- 
bornness of  mankind  to  blame  ?  Not  that ;  men  are  psycho- 
logically constituted  so  that  different  things  appeal  to  differ- 
ent persons,  and  religiously  these  things  are  represented  by 

456 


DENOMINATIONALISM  457 

different  denominations.  Cannot  men  be  sufficiently  loyal 
to  Jesus  Christ  to  give  up  their  petty  differences  ?  They  are 
so  loyal  to  Jesus  that  they  will  not  surrender  what  to  them  is 
truth.  Are  the  citizens  of  this  country  less  patriotic  because 
they  are  divided  into  numerous  political  parties?  They  ex- 
press their  patriotism  by  espousing  those  principles,  the 
adoption  of  which,  they  believe,  would  assist  in  the  country's 
prosperity.  Denominations  are  a  necessity  and  will  continue 
to  be,  so  long  as  men's  minds  operate  as  they  do  now.  And 
these  differences  show  God's  handiwork  as  plainly  as  the 
planets  in  the  heavens  which  shine  with  different  brilliancy, 
travel  in  different  orbits,  and  attract  different  satellites. 

"Man  is  constitutionally  bound  to  seek  continually,  and 
until  he  find  it,  such  a  religious  belief  and  such  a  life  of  re- 
ligion as  shall  bring  satisfaction  to  his  manifold  cravings  and 
needs.  These  cravings  and  needs  are  themselves  the  subject 
of  ceaseless  change;  they  may  become  the  subjects  of  devel- 
opment. That  is  to  say,  they  may  become  more  refined  and 
enlightened,  more  rational,  and  morally  worthy  of  satisfac- 
tion." » 

The  general  absence  of  sects,  and  the  agreement  in  belief 
among  primitive  people  and  in  new  sects  was  due  largely  to 
the  lack  of  reflection  concerning  religious  truth,  and  the 
weight  of  authority  which  was  always  felt.  No  variety  of 
experiences  of  a  religious  character  asserted  itself  in  the 
lower  stages  of  religious  development,  for  the  mentality  of  the 
people  was  too  crude  to  favor  originality.  When  religion 
became  more  complex  in  its  later  development,  and  indi- 
viduals began  to  think,  and  to  have  certain  varieties  of  ex- 
periences which  did  not  agree  with  the  fixed  creed,  then 
sects  sprang  up  and  have  continued  to  increase  in  number 
ever  since.  The  individual  soul,  being  capable  of  a  certain 
amount  of  initiative,  refuses  to  allow  his  religious  beliefs  to 

1  G.  T.  Ladd,  Philosophy  0}  Religion,  I,  p.  252. 


458  DENOMINATIONALISM 

be  circumscribed  by  the  statement  of  his  neighbors,  and  is 
impelled  to  think  things  out  for  himself.  He  recognizes  the 
repression  of  church  creed  and  organization,  which  refuses 
him  adequate  expression  of  his  individual  experience,  and 
there  is  a  tendency  to  form  a  new  religious  body  which,  al- 
though it  may  repress  someone  else,  gives  freedom  to  him 
and  to  others  who  have  felt  as  he  does.  This  individuality  in 
religion  is  an  evidence  of  growth. 

"The  formation  of  sects  is,  indeed,  both  an  evidence  of, 
and  a  necessity  to,  the  life  of  any  religion."  The  more  vigor- 
ous and  vital  the  religious  spirit,  the  greater  is  the  tendency 
to  division;  and  it  is  noticeable  that  where  we  find  the  great- 
est religious  intensity,  the  evident  difference  of  religious  opin- 
ion exists.  These  spontaneous,  individual  experiences  in- 
evitably become  labelled  heterodoxy,  and  sects  founded  on 
them  are  called  heretical;  through  continued  existence  and 
final  success  they  become  orthodoxy,  and  hence  our  religion 
is  enriched  by  a  new  element.  This  new  sect,  however,  be- 
comes the  old  and  stable,  and,  forgetting  its  origin,  attempts 
to  annihilate  any  heretical  genius  who  may  appear  to  fight  for 
recognition.  In  the  estimation  of  his  fellowmen  the  religious 
leader  passes  through  the  stages  of  lunacy,  knavery,  death, 
martyrdom,  and  saintship;  the  different  stages  show  the 
growth  of  the  ideas  which  he  espoused.  The  blood  of  the 
martyr  is  really  the  seed  of  the  church  out  of  which  grows 
a  richer  and  grander  and  fuller  form  of  religion. 

"In  what  can  the  originality  of  any  religious  movement 
consist,  save  in  finding  a  channel,  until  then  sealed  up,  through 
which  those  springs  may  be  set  free  in  some  group  of  human 
beings  ?  The  force  of  personal  faith,  enthusiasm  and  example, 
and,  above  all,  the  force  of  novelty,  are  always  the  prime  sug- 
gestive agency  in  this  kind  of  success.  ...  In  its  acuter 
stages  every  religion  must  be  a  homeless  Arab  of  the  desert. 
The  church  knows  this  well  enough,  with  its  everlasting  inner 


DENOMINATIONALISM  459 

struggle  of  the  acuter  religion  of  the  few  against  the  chronic 
religion  of  the  many,  indurated  into  an  obstructiveness  worse 
than  that  which  irreligion  opposes  to  the  movings  of  the 
spirit."  l 

Unless,  in  some  way,  every  large  church  can  shepherd 
a  variety  of  subordinate  groups,  and  permit  individual  di- 
versity, it  must  inevitably  be  broken  into  sects.  Perhaps  the 
great  mistake  of  the  past  has  been  in  denominational  dog- 
matism. When  a  sect  started,  the  church  said,  "You  must 
not."  If  left  alone  and  undisturbed  it  would  soon  die,  or 
else  the  truth  in  it  would  readily  coalesce  with  the  doctrines 
already  held.  The  emphasis  of  attempted  destruction  or  vio- 
lent persecution  is  the  soil  in  which  sects  flourish  best — in 
fact,  it  is  the  only  soil  in  which  they  can  grow  at  all. 

Some  persons  explain  their  adherence  to  one  denomination 
rather  than  to  another  by  saying:  "I  believe  I  am  a  Metho- 
dist because  my  father  was."  That  is  true,  and  is  only  an- 
other" way  of  saying  that  psychologically  he  is  constituted  so 
as  to  accept  the  tenets  of  the  Methodist  Church  because, 
through  the  well  known  laws  of  heredity,  he  is  like  his  father 
who  was  likewise  constituted. 

Another  one  says:  "I  am  a  Presbyterian  because  I  was 
brought  up  in  a  Presbyterian  family  and  taught  Presbyterian 
doctrines,  although  my  parents  were  both  Congregational- 
ists."  This  is  the  statement  of  another  scientific  fact.  It  is 
no  secret:  we  know  that  our  minds  are  changed  by  training, 
and  we  are  different  persons  psychologically  to-day  because 
we  have  reacted  to  different  environments.  The  character- 
istics of  men's  minds  are  determined,  to  a  certain  extent,  by 
these  two  factors — heredity  and  environment — and  the  re- 
sultant choice  of  a  denomination  is  no  accident,  it  follows  a 
scientific  law. 

We  must  also  recognize,  however,  that  notwithstanding  the 

1  W.  James,  The  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  p.  114. 


460  DENOMINATIONALISM 

similarity  brought  about  through  the  agency  of  heredity  and 
environment,  there  is  always  the  variation  to  be  taken  into 
consideration,  and  to  this  variation  is  due  the  possibility  of 
evolution  and  general  advancement.  With  similar  heredity 
and  environment  we  find  vastly  different  minds.  Luther  is  a 
pertinent  example  of  this.  His  parentage  was  Roman  Cath- 
olic, his  training  was  Roman  Catholic  even  to  that  of  the 
cloister,  and  yet  psychologically  Luther  was  not  a  Roman 
Catholic.  From  the  historical  fact  that  many  were  found  at 
the  same  time  with  similar  tendencies,  we  might  consider  the 
psychological  change  from  authority  to  rationalism  to  be  a 
product  of  the  evolution  of  the  race. 

The  mental  affinity  of  certain  persons  and  denominations 
is  an  ideal  and  theoretical  condition.  Practically  the  case  is 
different  because  many  persons  have  not  found  the  denomi- 
nations where  they  correctly  belong.  One's  soul  may  yearn 
for  aesthetic  satisfaction  to  be  found  in  those  denominations 
which  lay  emphasis  on  the  beauty  of  worship,  whose  lot  is 
cast  among  Puritans  who  despise  what  they  consider  the 
show  of  form,  or  condemn  elevating  strains  of  inspiring  music. 
Another,  equally  unfortunate,  is  worshiping  amidst  that 
which  appeals  to  the  finer  feelings  but  which  finds  no  re- 
sponse in  the  breast  of  him  whose  idea  of  worship  is  that  of 
rigid  bodily  sacrifice,  and  he  austerely  condemns  the  pleas- 
ures of  sense  disguised  in  religious  garments.  Until  these  two 
exchange  places  they  cannot  really  worship,  nor  are  they  true 
to  themselves  and  to  God.  Puritans  think  that  Ritualism 
worships  a  fantastic  God  who  is  pleased  with  toys  and  tinsel; 
ritualists  consider  that  Puritanism  worships  a  God  who  is 
a  monster  of  cruelty,  and  that  the  service  is  bleak  and  cold. 
Ritualism  appeals  to  the  complexity  of  man's  nature,  espe- 
cially the  aesthetic  sentiments  which  are  so  closely  allied  to  the 
religious;  beside  these  appeals,  the  more  strict  Protestantism 
presents  but  barrenness. 


DENOMINATIONALISM  461 

The  great  dividing  line  in  the  Christian  religion  is  that 
drawn  between  Roman  Catholics  and  so-called  Protestants. 
What  are  the  distinguishing  characteristics  ? 

"In  the  great  convulsions  of  the  sixteenth  century  the  femi- 
nine type  followed  Catholicism,  while  Protestantism  in- 
clined more  to  the  masculine  type.  Catholicism  alone  re- 
tained the  Virgin  worship,  which  at  once  reflected  and  sus- 
tained the  first.  The  skill  by  which  it  acts  upon  the  emotions 
by  music,  and  painting,  and  solemn  architecture,  and  im- 
posing pageantry,  its  tendency  to  appeal  to  the  imagination 
rather  than  to  the  reason,  and  to  foster  modes  of  feeling 
rather  than  modes  of  thought,  its  assertion  of  absolute  and  in- 
fallible certainty,  above  all,  the  manner  in  which  it  teaches 
its  votary  to  throw  himself  perpetually  on  authority,  all  tended 
in  the  same  direction."  * 

"Whoever  is  lacking  in  character  is  lacking  in  convictions. 
The  female,  therefore,  is  credulous,  uncritical,  and  quite  un- 
able to  understand  Protestantism.  Christians  are  Catholics 
or  Protestants  before  they  are  baptized,  but,  none  the  less,  it 
would  be  unfair  to  describe  Catholicism  as  feminine  simply 
because  it  suits  women  better."  2 

In  addition  to  this  we  may  find  other  distinctions.  They 
chiefly  centre  around  differences  of  authority  and  emphasis. 
The  organization  or  its  representatives  is  the  authority  in  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church,  and  its  emphasis  is  laid  on  death 
rather  than  on  life.  Among  Protestants  authority  is  found  in 
reason,  conscience,  or  the  Bible,  or  in  a  combination  of  any 
or  all  of  these  with  the  church  organization.  When  any  per- 
son desires  to  have  men  tell  him  what  to  believe  so  that  he 
can  accept  this  dictum  as  final  and  infallible,  rather  than 
having  a  "reason  for  the  faith  that  is  within  him,"  he  is  a 
Roman  Catholic  whether  he  is  worshiping  in  St.  Peter's  in 

1  W.  E.  H.  Lecky,  The  History  0}  European  Morals,  II,  p.  368. 
*  O.  Weininger,  Sex  and  Character,  p.  207. 


462  DENOMINATIONALISM 

Rome  or  Spurgeon's  Tabernacle  in  London.  If  connected 
with  this  attitude  there  is  a  tendency  to  emphasize  dying, 
death,  and  after  death,  rather  than  correct  living  here  and 
now  (and  these  two  are  not  infrequently  connected)  the  diag- 
nosis is  certain,  and  you  have  discovered  a  Roman  Catholic 
even  if  he  is  in  the  midst  of  a  Protestant  church.  And  it  is 
not  so  difficult  as  it  might  at  first  seem  to  discover  Protestant 
popes  among  our  clergy  who  are  willing  and  anxious  to  dic- 
tate to  their  parishioners  with  a  consciousness  of  infallibility 
which  might  cause  Pius  X  to  guard  his  laurels. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  is  no  doubt  that  under  the  shel- 
tering wing  of  the  Papacy  there  are  those  who  are  not  satisfied 
with  the  ex  cathedra  utterances  of  other  men,  but  who  wish 
to  think  their  own  way  through,  and  with  the  use  of  the 
Bible,  interpreted  by  an  enlightened  understanding,  they 
come  to  independent  conclusions.  These  men  are  Protestants 
and  have  no  right  to  remain  in  Rome.  While  the  Roman 
Church  is  undoubtedly  more  tolerant  than  formerly,  and  is 
now  very  careful  not  to  make  any  utterances  which  would 
bring  the  papal  authority  to  a  real  test,  it  yet  demands  abso- 
lute submission,  and  this  some  cannot  give. 

"The  strength  of  these  aesthetic  sentiments  makes  it  rig- 
orously impossible,  it  seems  to  me,  that  Protestantism,  how- 
ever superior  in  spiritual  profundity  it  may  be  to  Catholi- 
cism, should  at  the  present  day  succeed  in  making  many  con- 
verts from  the  more  venerable  ecclesiasticism.  The  latter 
offers  a  so  much  richer  pasturage  and  shade  to  the  fancy, 
has  so  many  cells  with  so  many  different  kinds  of  honey,  is  so 
indulgent  in  its  multiform  appeals  to  human  nature,  that 
Protestantism  will  always  show  to  Catholic  eyes  the  alms- 
house physiognomy.  The  bitter  negativity  of  it  is  to  the 
Catholic  mind  incomprehensible."  * 

What  is  so  clearly  illustrated  by  this  wider  division  be- 

1 W.  James,  The  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  p.  460. 


DENOMINATIONALISM  463 

tvveen  the  Roman  Catholics  and  the  Protestants  is  equally 
true  but  less  apparent  in  the  more  closely  allied  branches  of 
Protestantism.  Men,  from  their  very  natures,  belong  to  cer- 
tain denominations,  and  can  never  receive  the  most  from 
their  worship  until  they  find  their  proper  niches.  We  can- 
not, therefore,  call  denominationalism  an  unmitigated  evil: 
rather  the  opposite.  If  we  know  that  men  cannot  worship 
with  us  in  the  way  which  seems  best  to  them,  we  should  be 
willing  and  even  rejoice  that  there  are  congregations  with 
whom  they  can  worship  in  sincerity  and  truth. 

The  benefits  of  denominationalism  so  far  discussed  have 
been  chiefly  concerned  with  its  necessity.  It  is  not  well  to 
stop  with  this,  for,  in  addition,  denominationalism  is  valuable 
on  account  of  the  emphasis  placed  on  various  important  doc- 
trines by  the  different  sects.  All  denominations  either  have 
stood  in  the  past  or  do  stand  now  for  some  doctrine  by  which 
Christianity  has  profited  on  account  of  this  emphasis.  And 
this  denomination  may  have  done  its  work  so  well  that  the 
world  has  accepted  its  teaching,  and  therefore  its  raison 
d'etre  has  ceased.  For  example:  in  the  early  history  of  this 
country  the  Baptists  advocated  religious  liberty,  and  al- 
though flogged,  fined,  and  imprisoned  by  those  who  came 
here  to  seek  freedom  of  worship,  never  persecuted  others. 
So  well  has  this  lesson  of  religious  liberty  been  inculcated 
into  the  American  people,  and  so  thoroughly  does  it  fit  into 
the  political  and  other  ideas  of  this  continent,  that  were  this 
the  only  variation  of  Baptist  doctrine,  the  denomination  as 
a  separate  body  should  surrender  its  individuality. 

The  union  now  taking  place  between  different  denomina- 
tions may  be  accounted  for  in  this  way.  The  distinctive  doc- 
trines are  now  matters  of  common  belief  and  the  excuse  for  a 
separate  existence  is  becoming  less  and  less  valid.  Thus  it  is 
in  some  cases  that  persons  may  say  that  they  could  as  well 
unite  with  one  church  as  another,  because  there  may  be 


464  DENOMINATIONALISM 

little  or  no  real  difference.  But  even  although  denomina- 
tions so  emphasize  certain  doctrines  that  they  are  in  danger 
of  "working  themselves  out  of  a  job,"  on  account  of  the 
psychological  differences  in  people,  there  is  no  likelihood  of 
denominationalism  being  entirely  eliminated.  The  doctrines 
of  different  denominations  may  appear  to  be  almost  or  quite 
contradictory,  and  these  denominations  can  never  agree  to 
abandon  either  or  both  doctrines,  and  if  they  should,  Chris- 
tianity would  suffer  a  distinct  loss  rather  than  a  gain. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

IMMORTALITY 

"i.  I  can  call  spirits  from  the  vasty  deep. 
2.  Why,  so  can  I;  or  so  can  any  man: 

But  will  they  come  when  you  do  call  them?' 

— Shakespeare. 

It  may  seem  strange  to  some  persons  that  psychology  should 
touch  the  subject  of  immortality  when  in  the  past  philosophy 
and  revelation  have  had  the  exclusive  right  to  this  field.1 
They  have  used  this  right  to  such  good  advantage  that  they 
have  largely  exhausted  their  information,  and  any  advance  to 
be  made  or  additional  matter  to  be  added  must  be  furnished 
from  other  sources.  Psychology  has  been  the  science  to  step 
forward  and  offer  its  services.  Its  first  contribution  was  a 
destructive  one  and  came  from  that  borderland  realm  where 
psychology  touches  the  physical  sciences.  Physiological 
psychology  furnished  a  stubborn  objection.  Physical  science 
has  proved  the  mortality  of  the  body;  in  its  attempts  to  con- 
nect vitally  the  mind  and  the  body  it  has  essayed  to  demon- 
strate also  the  cessation  of  mental  activity.  Allow  science  to 
speak  for  itself  through  one  of  its  chief  exponents,  Professor 
Huxley : 

"So  with  respect  to  immortality.  As  physical  science 
states  this  problem,  it  seems  to  stand  thus :  Is  there  any  means 
of  knowing  whether  the  series  of  states  of  consciousness, 
which  has  been  casually  associated  for  threescore  years  and 

1  For  a  general  survey  of  the  history  of  the  subject,  see  L.  Elbe, 
Future  Life  in  Light  0}  Ancient  Wisdom  and  Modern  Science. 

465 


466  IMMORTALITY 

ten  with  the  arrangement  and  movements  of  innumerable 
millions  of  material  molecules,  can  be  continued  in  like  asso- 
ciation with  some  substance  which  has  not  the  properties  of 
matter  and  force  ?  As  Kant  said,  on  a  like  occasion,  if  any- 
body can  answer  that  question  he  is  just  the  man  I  want  to 
see.  If  he  says  that  consciousness  cannot  exist,  except  in 
relation  of  cause  and  effect  with  certain  organic  molecules, 
I  must  ask  how  he  knows  that;  and  if  he  says  it  can,  I  must 
ask  the  same  question." 

For  many  years  it  has  been  noticed  that  an  injury  to  the 
brain  interfered  with  conscious  acts  and  the  interference  was 
approximately  proportionate  to  the  injury;  that  the  blood 
supply  must  be  adequate  both  in  quantity  and  quality  to  en- 
able the  mind  to  function  properly;  that  certain  parts  of  the 
brain  were  concerned  with  movements  of  certain  parts  of  the 
body;  and  that  many  other  facts  showed  an  intimate  con- 
nection between  the  physical  and  the  mental.  Not  knowing 
the  nature  of  mind  and  having  some  idea  of  the  body  it  was, 
perhaps,  only  natural  it  should  be  considered  that  in  some 
way  the  mind  was  directly  dependent  upon  the  brain.  Of 
course  the  primary  crass  statement  that  the  brain  secreted 
thought  as  the  liver  did  bile  was  not  long  espoused,  but  the 
domination  of  physical  science  during  the  last  half  century 
has  led  many  to  believe  that  in  some  way  thought  was  a 
function  of  the  brain. 

So  fatal  was  this  objection  considered  that  many  expedi- 
ents have  been  resorted  to  in  order  that  it  might  be  over- 
come. Various  physical  substances  have  been  suggested  as  a 
fitting  material  for  a  "spiritual  body."  Not  the  least  in- 
genious of  these  is  the  one  which  hypothesizes  luminous  or 
interstellar  ether  as  the  physical  substratum  of  the  post- 
mortem spirit.  This  ether,  the  medium  through  which  the 
"X  ray"  and  wireless  telegraphy  operate,  is  supposed  to 
provide  an  exact  counterpart  of  the  brain,  which  it  readily 


IMMORTALITY  467 

penetrates.  Thus  the  spirit  is  not  unclothed  nor  disembodied, 
and  if  necessary  the  appearance  of  ghosts  has  a  rational  basis.1 

That  mind  and  matter  are  different  is  clearly  recognized 
by  physical  science  to-day,  but  if  mind  is  not  a  function  of 
the  brain  how  can  we  explain  the  relation  ?  Some  years  ago 
one  lucid  writer,  John  Stuart  Mill,  expressed  himself  in  the 
following  words : 

"There  are  thinkers  who,  because  the  phenomena  of  life 
and  consciousness  are  associated  in  their  minds  by  undeviat- 
ing  experience  with  the  action  of  material  organs,  think  it  an 
absurdity  per  se  to  imagine  it  possible  that  those  phenomena 
can  exist  under  any  other  conditions.  But  they  should  re- 
member that  the  uniform  coexistence  of  one  fact  with  another 
does  not  make  the  one  fact  a  part  of  the  other  or  the  same 
with  it.  The  relation  of  thought  to  the  brain  is  no  metaphysi- 
cal necessity,  but  simply  a  constant  coexistence  within  the 
limits  of  observation." 

This  objection  was  dealt  with  in  one  of  the  Ingersoll  Lec- 
tures2 at  Harvard  University  and  the  explanation  there  given, 
or  rather  the  hypothesis  there  presented,  at  least  admits 
of  our  positing  a  less  vital  connection.  There  are  three 
kinds  of  functions:  productive,  releasing  or  permissive, 
and  transmissive.  In  speaking  of  thought  as  a  function 
of  the  brain,  only  the  productive  function  is  usually  con- 
sidered, and  if  this  is  true,  then  when  the  brain  stops 
producing,  thought  ceases  to  exist.  But  if  we  consider 
the  function  as  of  either  the  last  two  classes,  then  so  far 
as  thought  being  dependent  on  the  brain  and  ceasing  with 
it  is  concerned,  the  removal  of  the  brain  would  tend  to  facili- 
tate the  action  of  the  mind.  To  use  an  illustration :  the  win- 
dow serves  the  purpose,  not  of  producing  the  light,  but  of 
transmitting  it.    If  made  of  very  dark  colored  glass  or  if  dirty 

1  S.  D.  McConnell,  The  Evolution  0}  Immortality,  chap.  XV. 
3  W.  James,  Human  Immortality. 


468  IMMORTALITY 

and  dusty  less  light  is  admitted,  so  that  the  room  may  be 
nearly  dark.  If  the  window  is  entirely  removed  not  a  cessa- 
tion of  light  but  a  great  increase  of  light  is  noticed,  in  fact,  the 
light  is  admitted  untrammeled.  Do  we  not  find  that  this 
sort  of  function  best  applies  to  what  we  know  of  the  relation 
between  the  mind  and  the  brain  ?  It  might  be  well  to  notice 
in  passing  that,  on  the  productive  theory,  telepathy,  clairvoy- 
ance, and  spiritism  are  impossible,  for  how  can  the  brain 
produce  these  things  apart  from  the  sense  organs?  The 
transmission  theory  places  no  objection  in  the  way  of  theories 
including  these  phenomena. 

Leaving,  then,  the  objections  we  eagerly  ask  if  psychology 
has  anything  to  add  by  way  of  evidence  in  support  of  the 
doctrine  of  immortality.  We  might  examine  the  genesis  of 
the  quite  universal  belief  in  immortality  even  among  those 
individuals  and  races  which  can  provide  no  rational  state- 
ment of  either  their  beliefs  or  the  reasons  underlying  them. 
Philosophy  has,  however,  used  this  fact  so  freely  and  so  long 
a  time  that  it  is  hardly  worth  while  for  us  even  to  mention  it. 
We  might  also  speak  of  mental  development  both  in  the  indi- 
vidual and  in  the  race  and  base  our  argument  on  this,  but 
again  philosophy  has  forestalled  us.  We  are  forced,  then,  to 
bring  forward  but  one  argument,  or  rather  to  make  way  for 
one  set  of  facts  which  promises  to  be  stronger  and  more 
forceful  the  more  it  is  investigated.  I  refer  to  the  phenomena 
included  under  the  investigations  of  spiritism. 

For  a  century  or  more  the  reaction  from  the  age  of  witch- 
craft has  caused  a  disbelief  in  any  form  of  spirit  manifestation. 
Science,  however,  laughs  at  nothing  except  the  fear  of  being 
laughed  at.  She  has  learned  by  far  too  many  bitter  experi- 
ences that  what  is  laughed  at  by  one  generation  is  not  infre- 
quently accepted  and  lauded  by  the  next.  Facts,  facts,  and 
the  explanation  of  facts  are  what  science  feeds  upon  and  its 
appetite  is  never  satiated.    Now  there  is  a  large  body  of  facts 


IMMORTALITY  469 

which  cannot  be  explained  by  current,  generally  accepted 
theories,  but  scientific  curiosity  and  religious  hope  spur  us  on 
to  submit  them  to  a  rigid,  careful  investigation. 

For  centuries  religion  has  been  asking,  "Is  it  true  that 
there  exists  a  reality  corresponding  to  our  faith  ?  Is  there  a 
spirit  world  inhabited  by  the  spirits  of  the  departed?"  Science 
has  but  one  answer  to  this :  "  If  a  spirit  world  exist  it  ought  to 
be  discoverable,  and  I  will  discover  it."  To  this  attitude  of 
science  two  objections  have  arisen,  one  among  the  friends  of 
religion  and  the  other  among  the  friends  of  physical  science. 
The  objector  representing  religion  says  that,  although  for 
centuries  he  has  believed  in  immortality,  he  does  not  want  it 
proven  to  him,  but  he  would  rather  keep  it  as  an  object  of 
faith  than  present  it  as  a  fact  of  science.  This  must  remain 
a  matter  of  individual  preference.  The  physicist  says  that 
this  cannot  be,  and  places  himself  in  the  position  of  those  of 
whom  it  was  said,  "neither  would  they  be  persuaded  though 
one  rose  from  the  dead."  For  years  science  has  been  the 
chief  apologist  for  century-old  beliefs,  and  it  may  even  be  in 
this  case.    Neither  of  these  objections  is  a  valid  one. 

Paul,  the  greatest  exponent  of  Christianity,  says  that 
Christianity  rests  upon  the  resurrection,  and  our  faith  is 
vain  without  it.  Christianity  must  perish  or  flourish  with  a 
belief  in  the  resurrection.  If  it  were  possible  for  us  to  prove 
immortality  Christian  apologetics  would  be  greatly  aided  in 
its  work.  Physical  science  objects  to  supersensible  evidence 
or  foundations,  yet  it,  itself,  is  founded  on  supersensible 
bases,  as,  e.  g.,  atoms  and  ether.  This  should  surely  pave  the 
way  for  other  supersensible  theories  and  explanations.  It 
would  not  be  difficult  to  point  out  hypotheses  of  science 
founded  on  less  evidence  than  spiritism  can  produce. 

What  shall  we  say  concerning  the  evidence?  In  the  first 
place  we  must  recognize  that,  notwithstanding  the  importance 
of  the  subject,  scarcely  fifty  serious  students  have  devoted 


470  IMMORTALITY 

themselves  to  it.1  With  the  great  amount  of  evidence  to 
examine  and  the  nature  of  the  evidence  to  consider,  we  must 
expect  the  subject  to  be  as  yet  in  a  rather  chaotic  condition. 
One  thing  appears  evident,  however,  while  no  theory  ade- 
quately explains  all  the  facts  gathered,  the  hypothesis  of 
chance  or  coincidence  is  excluded.  Certainly  one  single  in- 
stance of  survival  after  death  would  be  worth  more  than  all 
the  philosophical  arguments  or  statements  of  disbelief  and 
agnosticism  or  of  belief  and  confidence.  It  is  further  to  be 
considered  that  one  example  is  as  good  as  one  thousand  if  it 
has  good  evidential  value.  Hundreds  of  millions  of  people 
believe  that  this  case  has  been  furnished,  and  the  resurrection 
accomplished  in  the  experience  of  Jesus  Christ.  Apart  from 
the  faith  of  so  many  to-day,  the  evidence  to  support  this  is 
better  in  quality  and  more  plentiful  than  that  for  most  events 
of  its  time,  many  of  which  are  accepted  without  question. 
Science,  however,  is  not  content  to  rest  upon  evidence  cen- 
turies and  millenniums  old,  but  desires  first-hand  facts  if  pos- 
sible and  of  recent  date  where  they  can  be  examined.  To  the 
discussion  of  these,  then,  we  must  turn. 

For  the  past  few  years  certain  investigators  have  been  con- 
cerned with  some  phenomena  which  may  be  classed  under  the 
name  of  telepathy.  While  we  understand  in  general  what 
this  word  stands  for,  when  we  come  to  define  it  specifically 
we  find  considerable  confusion.  The  definition  has  been 
extended  or  contracted  to  fit  the  exigencies  of  certain  cases 
or  theories,  and  it  is  difficult  to  assign  its  limits.  Of  course 
we  recognize  that  in  general  it  is  the  transference  of  thought 
from  one  mind  to  another  without  the  use  of  the  ordinary 
means,  speech,  signs,  or  symbols.  This,  then,  could  be  accom- 
plished when  persons  were  separated  by  long  distances. 
Now,  the  scientific  use  of  this  term  restricts  it  to  the  trans- 

1  F.  W.  H.  Myers,  Human  Personality  and  its  Survival  of  Bodily 
Death,  II,  p.  206. 


IMMORTALITY  47  * 

ference  of  thought  from  one  person  to  another  at  the  time  it 
was  consciously  in  the  mind  of  the  former;1  but  it  has  been 
used  to  refer  to  the  transference  of  any  mental  content  which 
could  be  recalled  by  the  former  person,  or  anything  which 
has  ever  been  in  his  mind,  either  consciously  or  subcon- 
sciously. One  can  easily  see  how  this  wider  and  looser  use  of 
the  word  would  interfere  with  the  interpretation  of  facts 
which  could  otherwise  be  used  as  evidence  for  spirit  mani- 
festation. 

Telepathy  has  made  a  good  case  and  may  soon  be  consid- 
ered as  established.  Not  that  it  is  always  operative  or  that 
all  persons  can  act  as  either  agents  or  percipients,  but  spo- 
radically, or  between  certain  persons,  experiences,  for  which 
no  other  explanation  is  available  at  present,  have  been  no- 
ticed. But  after  you  have  posited  telepathy  as  a  working  hy- 
pothesis you  have  not  thereby  explained  the  modus  operandi. 
It  is  generally  considered  that  in  some  way  one  mind  has  an 
influence  or  power  over  another,  which  shows  itself  by  the 
reproduction  of  thought;  but  some  investigators  opine,  after 
examining  many  cases,  that  the  real  relation  seems  to  be  the 
effect  of  a  mind  over  a  body,  i.  e.,  that  an  external  mind  uses 
a  body  in  place  of  the  mind  which  ordinarily  rules  it.2  How- 
ever, the  laws  of  telepathy  are  so  little  known  that  one  cannot 
affirm  or  deny  anything  which  may  be  presented. 

In  the  discussion  of  these  abnormal  psychic  phenomena, 
telepathy  as  the  most  simple  hypothesis  has  been  accepted 
wherever  it  could  offer  an  explanation.  If  telepathy  were 
inadequate,  clairvoyance  was  next  called  upon  to  explain  the 
facts.  This  failing,  spiritism,  as  the  least  likely,  was  allowed 
an  opportunity.  The  order  appears  to  me  incorrect.  If  tel- 
epathy is  accepted  as  the  intercourse  of  two  minds,  then  spir- 

1  J.  H.  Hyslop,  Science  and  a  Future  Life,  p.  34  /. 
* F.  W.  H.  Myers,  Human  Personality  and   its  Survival  0}  Bodily 
Death,  II,  p.  196. 


472  IMMORTALITY 

itism  is  next  in  order;  for  what  do  we  mean  by  spiritism  but 
an  enlarged  telepathy?  It  is  simply  the  intercourse  of  two 
minds  without  the  use  of  ordinary  means.  We  all  believe  in 
immortality  and  the  persistence  of  personal  identity  and 
mental  powers;  why  then  should  we  not  extend  telepathy  to 
include  spirits?  Clairvoyance  is  least  likely  of  the  three  hy- 
potheses, for  there  is  no  mind  to  act  as  agent  and  consequently 
there  can  be  no  transference  to  or  reproduction  in  another 
mind  by  any  mental  force.  With  telepathy  accepted  as  a 
scientific  hypothesis  it  is  but  a  step — a  short  step — to  spirit- 
ism. 

Many  objections  have  been  raised  to  a  spiritistic  hypoth- 
esis and  many  efforts  have  been  made  to  explain  a  part  of  the 
phenomena,  so  classed,  by  other  means,  or  simply  to  deny  it. 
Some  can  undoubtedly  be  explained,  but  there  yet  remains 
an  inexplicable  residue,  and  on  this  the  spiritists  found  their 
doctrine.  Nothing  could  be  more  elaborate  than  Mr.  Myers' 
attempt  to  explain  every  fact  by  some  other  means,  and  his 
honesty  and  general  ability  in  this  cannot  be  doubted.1 
Notice  the  following  quotations : 

"While  sounding  a  timely  warning,  however,  by  thus  call- 
ing the  public  attention  to  the  methods  of  trickery  at  present 
in  vogue,  I  do  not  wish  it  to  be  understood  that  I  thereby 
relegate  the  whole  of  the  evidence  for  the  supernormal  to  the 
waste-basket.  That  is  precisely  what  I  do  not  wish  to  do  or 
lead  others  to  do.  It  is  because  I  believe  that  there  do  exist 
certain  phenomena,  the  explanations  for  which  have  not  yet 
been  found,  and  which  I  think  science  should  be  induced  to 
systematically  study,  that  I  think  it  necessary  to  distinguish 
those  phenomena  from  the  fraudulent  'marvels'  so  com- 
monly produced,  and  which  are  the  only  spiritualistic  phe- 
nomena with  which  the  public  is  acquainted.    When  these 

1  F.  W.  H.  Myers,  Human  Personality  and  its  Survival  oj  Bodily 
Death. 


IMMORTALITY  473 

shall  have  been  cleared  away,  and  the  weeding-out  process 
carried  sufficiently  far  to  enable  us  to  see  what  are  the  'real 
problems'  to  be  solved,  then  the  real,  systematic,  scientific 
study  of  psychic  phenomena  will  have  begun."  ' 

"In  respect  to  that  [Human  Personality  and  its  Survival  of 
Bodily  Death],  I  record  with  pleasure  my  appreciation  of  the 
ability  and  devotion  of  the  author,  as  well  as  of  the  skill  of  his 
presentations;  and  I  record  with  regret,  that  in  spite  of  a 
common  interest  in  the  same  range  of  phenomena,  and  a  fair 
measure  of  agreement  in  the  interpretation  of  the  more  ob- 
jective and  verifiable  data,  I  yet  find  my  point  of  view  as 
little  in  accord  with  his,  that  I  have  been  able  to  profit  but 
slightly  from  his  discerning  labors."  2  In  Professor  Jastrow's 
book  which  follows  these  words  his  eclecticism  is  very  marked. 
He  accepts  without  question  the  evidence  of  certain  witnesses 
concerning  crystal  gazing  and  similar  phenomena,  but  as 
unquestioningly  refuses  the  evidence  of  the  same  witnesses 
regarding  telepathy  and  spiritism.  His  explanations  do  not 
seem  to  be  sufficient  to  remove  the  paradox. 

To  prove  immortality  and  positively  disprove  the  mate- 
rialist's arguments,  we  must  separate  human  consciousness 
from  the  body.  To  accomplish  the  proof  of  this  two  kinds  of 
evidence  must  be  adduced:  the  communication  purporting 
to  come  from  the  dead  should  show  supernormal  knowledge, 
and  the  communication  should  illustrate  and  prove  the  per- 
sonal identity  of  the  one  represented  and  communicating.3 
Now,  a  great  amount  of  such  evidence  is  already  at  hand  and 
is  accessible  to  any  reader.  This  being  so,  only  three  ex- 
planations are  possible,  viz.,  fraud  on  the  part  of  the  investi- 
gators, telepathy,  and  spiritism.4 

1  H.  Carrington,  The  Physical  Phenomena  o)  Spiritualism,  p.  415  /. 
1  J.  Jastrow,  The  Subconsciousness,  Preface,  p.  ix. 
*  J.  H.  Hyslop,  Science  and  a  Future  Life,  p.  105  /. 
4  J.  H.  Hyslop,  Science  and  a  Future  Life,  pp.  246  ft. 


474 


IMMORTALITY 


The  high  standing  of  the  investigators,  both  in  the  com- 
munity and  in  the  scientific  world,  precludes  the  hypotheses 
of  fraud.  No  men  of  science  are  more  eminent.  Men  of  such 
world-wide  renown  as  Lombroso,  Flammarion,  Marconi,  Sir 
William  Crookes,  Sir  Oliver  Lodge,  Professor  Richet,  Pro- 
fessor Hyslop,  Professor  James,  and  others,  cannot  be  easily 
set  aside  by  calling  them  fanatics  or  dupes.  It  is  rather  inter- 
esting to  note  that  in  1898  Sir  William  Crookes  was  simul- 
taneously president  of  the  British  Association  for  the  Ad- 
vancement of  Science,  and  of  the  British  Society  for  Psychical 
Research.  All  the  world  accepted  his  conclusions  concerning 
physical  science  without  question,  but  most  men  laughed  at 
his  conclusions  of  a  psychical  character.  Dr.  Giuseppe 
Lapponi,  medical  adviser  of  Pope  Leo  XIII  and  of  the 
present  pope,  has  recently  published  a  work  entitled,  "Ipno- 
tismo  e  spiritismo,"  in  which  he  admits  the  facts  of  spiritism 
but  denounces  the  investigation  of  it  as  "dangerous,  damn- 
able, immoral,  and  reprehensible."  This  is  in  harmony 
with  the  teachings  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  which 
considers  spiritism  a  revival  of  demonology.  An  experience 
of  over  twenty  years  with  Mrs.  Piper  has  failed  to  reveal  the 
slightest  trace  of  fraud. 

Some  of  the  investigators  find  telepathy  fraught  with  more 
weighty  and  more  numerous  objections  than  spiritism — • 
objections  too  numerous  for  us  even  to  mention  in  this 
resume\  And  even  extending  telepathy  to  its  widest  limits, 
there  are  some  cases  which  it  cannot  explain.  Further,  tel- 
epathy alone  is  inadequate,  for  in  some  of  the  simplest  cases 
double  personality  or  some  similar  phenomena  must  be  in- 
voked to  aid.  If  the  evidence  is  true,  and  there  is  no  reason 
to  doubt  it,  the  spiritistic  hypothesis  seems  to  present  the 
best  case  up  to  the  present  time. 

We  have  only  been  able  to  touch  this  subject  in  its  barest 
outline  and  an  adequate  presentation  would  require  far  more 


IMMORTALITY  475 

time  and  space  than  we  could  here  give.  Two  points  out  of 
many  we  wish  to  mention  further.  The  first  is  the  trivial 
character  of  the  incidents  given,  especially  those  used  to 
prove  personal  identity.  One  investigator  tried  an  experi- 
ment of  this  same  kind  on  living  persons,  endeavoring  to 
have  them  prove  their  identity  by  relating  incidents  over  a 
telephone.  He  found  that  the  incidents  related  were  of  the 
most  trivial  character,  and  although  the  subjects  were  college 
professors  and  students,  they  might  as  well  have  been  boot- 
blacks as  far  as  the  character  of  the  incidents  was  concerned.1 

The  second  point,  and  one  which  throws  light  upon  the 
one  just  mentioned,  is  the  difficulty  of  communication. 
Most  of  the  evidence  has  been  received  through  mediums. 
Now,  the  medium  must  be  in  an  abnormal  condition — in  a 
trance — in  order  to  communicate,  and  there  is  reason  to  sup- 
pose, not  only  by  analogy  from  this  side,  but  from  evidence  of 
an  internal  character,  that  an  abnormal  condition  is  also 
necessary  for  spirit  communicators.  If  this  is  true,  the  won- 
der is  not  that  the  incidents  given  are  trivial  but  that  any 
communication  at  all  can  be  held.  Communication  would 
also  be  difficult  if  the  language  and  signs  were  not  well 
understood  by  both  parties  trying  to  communicate. 

Recently  Professor  Filippo  Bottazzi,  head  of  the  depart- 
ment of  Physiology  in  the  Royal  University  of  Naples,  has 
been  making  a  series  of  experiments  in  what  may  be  called  the 
physical  manifestations  of  spiritualism.2  Together  with  some 
other  careful  observers  of  repute,  he  met  the  medium, 
Eusapia  Palodino,  in  the  laboratory  of  the  university,  where 
instruments  of  precision  could  be  and  were  used  to  measure 
the  force  used  in   certain  phenomena.     Professor  Bottazzi 

1  J.  H.  Hyslop,  Science  and  a  Future  Life,  p.  300. 

3C.  Johnson,  "Exploring  the  Spiritual  World,"  Harper's  Weekly, 
Aug.  15,  1908;  H.  Garland,  "The  Shadow  World,"  Everybody's 
Magazine,  Aug.  and  Sept.,  1908. 


476  IMMORTALITY 

reached  the  following  conclusion:  "Mediumistic  phenomena, 
when  they  are  not  entirely  hallucinations  of  those  present  at 
the  stance,  are  biological  phenomena  entirely  dependent  upon 
the  organism  of  the  medium;  and  if  so,  they  occur  as  if  ac- 
companied by  prolongation  of  the  natural  limbs,  or  as  if  by 
additional  limbs  which  spread  from  the  body  of  the  medium 
and  re-enter  it  after  a  variable  time,  during  which  time  they 
show  themselves,  as  regards  the  sensation  they  bring  about 
in  us,  as  limbs  differing  in  no  essential  matter  from  natural 
or  physical  members."  Since  the  conclusion  of  the  experi- 
ment there  is  a  disposition  among  some  to  explain  all  phe- 
nomena which  were  formerly  used  as  a  basis  for  spiritism 
by  the  hypothesis  of  a  spiritual,  psychic,  or  astral  body, 
whatever  these  parodoxical  terms  may  mean. 

In  this  survey  I  have  not  attempted  to  prove  spiritism: 
that  is  not  the  object.  The  space  is  insufficient  and  the  evi- 
dence not  yet  conclusive.  My  object  here  is  simply  to  open 
the  way  for  the  evidence  for  immortality  which  the  science  of 
psychology  is  trying  to  present.  Of  course  some  will  say  that 
in  trying  to  encourage  such  evidence  we  are  reverting  to  the 
age  of  witchcraft  and  the  testimony  of  the  witch-doctor,  and 
instead  of  advancing  with  the  age  we  are  retrogressing  sev- 
eral centuries.  It  does  not  matter  when  spiritism  first  was 
proposed  nor  who  proposed  it,  the  question  for  us  to  ask  is, 
"How  far  does  it  accord  with  the  facts?"  Immortality  is 
believed  in  by  the  most  advanced  nations  and  individuals; 
why  object  to  its  proof  ?  If  this  should  be  proved  by  spiritism 
it  would  not  be  the  first  instance  of  the  regeneration  of  crude 
ideas  by  scientific  men,  and  the  incorporation  of  these  ideas 
into  the  latest  scientific  theories. 


CHAPTER    XXXII 

PREACHING 

"Well  spoken,  with  good  accent  and  good  discretion." 

— Shakespeare. 

Christianity  has  never  been  without  its  great  preachers, 
and  its  propagation  has  been  more  or  less  dependent  upon 
public  speaking  from  the  time  of  its  Founder  to  the  present. 
A  great  difference  has  been  noticed  in  the  effectiveness  of 
preachers,  and  in  former  times  this  was  said  to  be  due  to  the 
Holy  Spirit.  This  may  have  been  true,  but  to-day  we  are 
recognizing  that  the  effectiveness  of  speakers  can  be  analyzed 
and  certain  rules  may  be  laid  down  which,  if  followed,  assist 
a  preacher  much  in  cogently  proclaiming  his  message.  The 
psychological  principles  of  successful  preaching  must  con- 
cern us  in  this  chapter;  these  principles  would  also  be  appli- 
cable to  other  forms  of  public  speaking. 

Is  preaching  declining  in  its  power  ?  The  pulpit  as  an  in- 
stitution with  its  ex  cathedra  utterances,  its  assumed  author- 
ity, and  its  preempted  dignity,  probably  has  declined,  but  the 
preacher  as  a  preacher  is  yet  to  be  regarded  as  a  mighty 
power.  It  is  true  that  people  can  read  for  themselves  now  as 
they  could  not  years  ago,  but  the  difference  between  spoken 
and  written  discourse  will  always  cause  a  demand  for  the 
preacher.  The  sermon  which  may  seem  weak  and  insipid 
when  read,  may  have  been  powerful  when  preached.  Not 
only  the  truth,  but  the  man  back  of  it,  is  a  factor  of  impor- 
tance. The  present,  personal  touch  and  influence,  whatever 
we  may  find  that  to  be,  must  be  reckoned  with. 

477 


478  PREACHING 

The  personality  of  the  preacher  back  of  the  words  makes 
the  difference  between  a  good  sermon  and  a  poor  one,  a  dif- 
ference not  so  easy  to  distinguish  in  a  written  discourse.  One 
may  speak  of  this  as  temperament,  but  temperament  plus; 
it  is  the  man  as  a  whole,  the  balance  of  his  powers  and  his 
methods.  People  have  not  tired  of  preaching,  but  only  of 
certain  styles  of  sermons  and  preachers.  It  is  the  personality 
which  is  not  attractive.  Rather  than  any  particular  truth  or 
sermon,  the  chief  thing  that  a  man  contributes  to  his  congre- 
gation is  his  tone— the  influence  of  his  personality;  if  that  is 
lacking  he  is  as  booming  brass  or  a  clanging  cymbal. 
"Whether  the  minister  feels  the  congregation  or  not,  the  con- 
gregation feels  the  minister."  ! 

The  physical  basis  of  personality  cannot  be  neglected. 
Spencer  says,  "He  that  with  men  is  a  success  must  begin  by 
being  a  first-class  animal."  The  interdependence  of  mind 
and  body  is  well  known,  and  the  sound  body  is  necessary  to 
healthful  mental  activity.  A  good  appetite  and  normal  di- 
gestion are  valuable  mental  aids  to  a  preacher.  Those  who 
have  succeeded  without  good  bodies  have  done  so  notwith- 
standing this  handicap,  not  on  account  of  it.  "There  are 
men  a  large  part  of  whose  magnetism  is  in  their  fine,  impres- 
sive physique,  men  who  command  attention  largely  by  a  mas- 
sive figure,  a  noble  bearing,  a  masterful  air,  and  an  organ-like 
voice."  2  Not  only  indirectly  in  its  effect  on  the  mind,  but 
directly  the  bodily  influence  is  a  help  to  a  preacher. 

In  common  with  all  public  speakers,  the  preacher  has  the 
problem  of  interest  and  attention  on  his  hands.  It  is  true 
that  persons  who  attend  church  come  because  they  wish  to, 
and  know  beforehand,  to  some  extent,  what  subjects  may  be 
presented  and  their  treatment,  but,  notwithstanding  this,  the 
problem  is  still  present.    External  conditions  count  for  much, 

1  P.  Brooks,  Lectures  on  Preaching,  p.  211. 

2  J.  S.  Kennard,  Psychic  Power  in  Preaching,  p.  33. 


PREACHING  479 

for  if  they  are  not  favorable  the  hearer  finds  it  difficult  to 
attend,  or  else  there  is  a  struggle  of  interests  so  that  attention 
is  an  effort.  Ventilation,  temperature,  and  acoustics  may  be 
singly  or  combined  of  such  a  character  that  attention  is  prac- 
ticably impossible,  or  the  counter  claims  on  the  attention  of 
giggling  choir  girls,  conflicting  noises,  inharmonious  sur- 
roundings or  gorgeous  attire  may  make  the  preacher's  task 
a  difficult  one. 

It  is  not  my  intention  to  present  a  full  psychology  of  the 
attention,  for  if  that  is  not  already  known  it  may  be  obtained 
from  any  standard  work  on  psychology;  a  few  points,  how- 
ever, in  application  may  be  of  value.  Coming  together  as  a 
congregation  with  one  thing  in  mind,  there  is  yet  a  variety  of 
interests.  Every  person  voluntarily  attends  at  first,  and  the 
problem  of  the  preacher  as  of  the  teacher  is  to  change  atten- 
tion from  the  voluntary  to  the  spontaneous  variety.  Professor 
Ribot  says  that  the  process  of  gaining  voluntary  attention 
may  be  reduced  to  the  following  single  formula:  "To  render 
attractive  by  artifice  what  is  not  so  by  nature,  to  give  an  arti- 
ficial interest  to  things  that  have  not  a  natural  interest." 
"The  whole  question,"  he  continues,  "is  reduced  to  the  find- 
ing of  effective  motives;  if  the  latter  be  wanting,  voluntary 
attention  does  not  appear."  x  This,  however,  is  not  the 
prime  problem  of  the  preacher.  He  may  well  take  for  granted 
that  at  the  beginning  his  hearers  voluntarily  attend.  To 
change  this  to  spontaneous  attention  is  his  task. 

The  power  of  expectancy  is  as  valuable  to  the  noted 
preacher  as  to  the  physician  with  a  great  reputation.  If  a 
preacher  has  a  reputation  for  brilliancy,  wit,  or  even  eccen- 
tricity, he  will  be  aided  by  expectancy,  not  only  in  gaining 
the  attention  of  his  hearers,  but  in  holding  it.  They  will  vol- 
untarily attend  to  hear  what  is  coming  next,  always  expecting 

1  T.  Ribot,  Psychology  oj  Attention.  The  whole  book  will  be  found 
valuable. 


48o  PREACHING 

and  indeed  finding,  because  of  their  expectancy,  things  of 
interest  in  what  may  really  be  an  uninteresting  address. 

The  power  of  personality,  already  referred  to,  may  be  and 
probably  is,  in  part  just  this.  Even  the  physical  appearance 
is  a  great  aid.  A  small,  insignificant  looking  man  with  a 
weak  voice  may  have  to  preach  ten  minutes,  giving  utterance 
to  the  grandest  sentiments,  before  people  will  begin  to  listen 
to  him;  his  brother  of  imposing  appearance  and  rich  voice 
gets  the  attention  from  the  beginning  because  people,  for 
some  reason,  expect  more  from  him.  Bigness  of  body,  voice, 
subject,  or  treatment  is  a  law  of  attention;  it  is  always 
attractive. 

The  same  thing  is  true  of  earnestness  and  sincerity.  A 
study  of  the  great  preachers  shows  the  expression  of  this  to 
be  very  different,  in  fact  often  contradictory,  in  style.  Some 
shout,  others  use  little  voice;  some  talk  rapidly,  others 
slowly;  some  use  many  gestures  and  are  always  in  motion, 
others  are  almost  motionless.  Each  one's  style,  however, 
must  betoken  sincerity,  and  be  recognized  as  his  way  of  ex- 
pressing earnestness.  The  speaker  must  be  interested — this 
interest  is  contagious.  His  interest,  though,  must  not  be  of 
such  a  character  that  he  forgets  the  people  in  the  pews.  He 
must  always  have  them  in  mind,  not  as  subjects  to  whom  to 
preach,  but  as  persons  who  think,  and  he  must,  if  he  is  to  be 
interesting,  view  the  theme  which  he  presents  from  their 
standpoints.  The  reason  for  this  is  obvious:  nothing  entirely 
new  can  be  interesting;  in  fact,  nothing  entirely  new  is  com- 
prehensible. On  the  other  hand,  if  a  subject  and  its  treat- 
ment are  old  and  threadbare,  it  is  equally  uninteresting.  In- 
terest lies  between  the  two  extremes.  The  new  in  its  rela- 
tionship to  the  old  is  always  attractive.  A  series  of  sermons 
may,  therefore,  be  more  interesting  because  a  place  has  been 
made  for  the  new  in  the  previous  sermon,  and  coupled  with 
this  is  the  element  of  expectancy. 


PREACHING  481 

A  further  word:  preaching,  to  be  interesting,  should  be 
suggestive  not  exhaustive.  Every  hearer  should  be  given 
some  mental  work — he  should  be  allowed  to  think.  A  ser- 
mon which  makes  us  think,  whether  it  is  in  harmony  with  our 
ideas  or  not,  is  always  interesting.  Activity  is  pleasurable; 
if  we  have  all  the  work  done  for  us  interest  ceases.  On  the 
other  hand,  care  must  be  taken  not  to  start  lines  of  interest 
which  we  do  not  satisfy,  or  which  shall  lead  the  hearers  off 
the  main  subject  or  away  from  the  ideas  which  one  wishes  to 
present;  that  is  giving  them  too  much  to  do,  or  rather  is 
giving  them  things  to  do  which  may  defeat  your  object. 
Keep  the  hearers  busy,  but  lead  them  your  way. 

A  psychological  fact  which  must  not  escape  our  notice  is 
the  fluctuation  of  the  attention.  We  are  not  able  to  hold  the 
full  and  undivided  attention  of  a  hearer  for  more  than  a  few 
seconds  or  minutes  at  a  time.  The  time  will  vary  with  the 
conditions,  as,  e.  g.,  the  physical  condition  of  the  hearers, 
time  of  day,  season  of  the  year,  or  subject  discussed.  Atten- 
tion comes  in  waves  and  we  listen  as  we  read,  not  continu- 
ously but  intermittently;  we  rest  every  few  seconds.  The 
unit  of  hearing  is  probably  from  two  to  four  seconds,  and 
sentences  should  be  constructed  so  as  not  to  exhaust  by  their 
length  nor  to  shock  by  their  brevity.  The  sentence,  the  com- 
pleted thought,  then  becomes  the  unit  and  is  pleasing.  The 
preacher  must  take  advantage  of  this  and  by  skillful  adjust- 
ment get  the  maximum  effect  with  the  minimum  of  volun- 
tary attention. 

As  a  further  lesson  from  the  fluctuation  of  attention,  we 
must  have  variety.  The  monotony  of  any  factor  of  style  or 
expression  will  fail  to  coax  the  attention  when  it  has  flagged. 
Especially  at  the  beginning  of  a  discourse  this  variation  must 
be  more  marked;  after  the  audience  has  been  gripped  the 
necessity  is  not  so  great,  but  nevertheless  it  can  never  be 
neglected  with  profit. 


482  PREACHING 

Closely  connected  with  this  is  the  subject  of  rhythm.1 
Probably  the  best  examples  of  the  use  of  rhythm  in  preaching 
are  found  among  the  negro  preachers  in  the  south.  The 
congregation  aids  by  the  swaying  of  the  body,  the  rhythmic 
shout,  or  response.  The  effect  on  the  hearers  is  more  notice- 
able than  that  produced  by  the  words  uttered.  Some  re- 
vivalists have  also  taken  advantage  of  this  force.  The  pri- 
mary function  of  the  rhythm  is  in  the  aesthetic  effect  which  it 
produces,  but  it  also  assists  the  hearers  in  grasping  the 
thought,  the  accent  of  the  rhythm  being  a  spur  to  the  atten- 
tion. This  rhythm,  to  be  of  most  advantage,  must  corre- 
spond in  length  to  the  unit  of  thought. 

There  is  a  surprising  uniformity  in  the  number  of  words 
used  in  a  sentence  by  different  speakers  and  writers.  This 
average  will  differ  in  different  ages  but  be  uniform  for  a  cer- 
tain age.  Lately  the  average  has  decreased.  Before  the 
Elizabethan  age  the  average  number  was  about  fifty,  now  it 
is  approximately  twenty-five.  The  rhythm  does  not  seem  to 
depend  so  much  on  the  number  of  words  in  a  sentence  as  on 
the  number  of  complete  predications;  the  latter  averages 
somewhat  more  than  two.  "The  sentence  rhythm  is  very 
pronounced  in  many  of  our  contemporary  lecturers.  With 
some  the  sentence  is  short,  and  every  brief  period  of  expecta- 
tion is  followed  by  its  appropriate  satisfaction.  The  effect  pro- 
duced is  quite  similar  to  that  produced  by  the  verse  and 
stanza  in  poetry  or  music." 

In  rhythm,  time,  pitch,  and  stress  are  all  used,  one  or  more 
of  these  elements  being  present  in  every  recurrence  of  accent, 
but  varying  in  proportion  with  different  speakers.  They 
should  all  be  considered  by  every  public  speaker  as  integral 
factors  of  rhythm.  Prose  as  well  as  poetry  should  be  ren- 
dered rhythmically  to  get  the  best  effects. 

From  what  has  already  been  said  in  the  chapter  on  Con- 

1  See  W.  D.  Scott,  Psychology  oj  Public  Speaking,  pp.  121-146. 


PREACHING  483 

tagious  Phenomena,  it  will  be  recognized  that  the  congrega- 
tion may  easily  become  a  psychological  crowd  and  yield  to 
the  power  of  suggestion  on  the  part  of  the  preacher.1  Even 
if  the  congregation  does  not  reach  the  complete  status  of  the 
psychological  crowd,  it  tends  in  that  direction,  and  suggestion 
is  usually  more  effective  than  logical  reasoning.  For  the 
purpose  of  suggestion  we  must  limit  in  some  way  the  ideas 
presented  in  consciousness  to  those  which  are  desired  and 
prevent  the  entrance  into  consciousness  of  any  inhibiting 
ideas;  this  is  but  restating  what  we  have  already  said  when 
discussing  interest  and  attention.  The  very  surroundings, 
the  churchly  environment,  assist  in  accomplishing  this  object. 

Conditions  are  much  more  favorable  for  changing  a  re- 
ligious congregation  into  a  psychological  crowd  than  with 
most  audiences.  Although  a  congregation  is  naturally  heter- 
ogeneous from  almost  every  other  standpoint,  it  is  to  a  great 
extent  religiously  homogeneous.  Equality  before  God  is 
preached  and  is  supposed  to  be  practised  in  and  during 
church  services  if  anywhere;  the  congregation  gathers  with 
similar  feelings,  purposes,  and  aims;  all  the  members  par- 
ticipate in  the  same  ritual  at  the  same  time  and  act  as  one 
person  all  through  the  service.  The  limitation  of  voluntary 
movements,  which  is  such  a  valuable  accessory  in  the  change 
from  a  heterogeneous  to  a  homogeneous  crowd,  seems  to  be 
best  accomplished  in  a  religious  congregation.  Pressed  into 
a  pew  where  movement  is  difficult,  confined  in  tight  and  stiff 
Sunday  clothing  which  suggests  motionlessness  if  it  does  not 
prohibit  movement,  and  restrained  by  the  church  custom  of 
quietness,  the  body  is  held  erect  and  stationary. 

The  crowd  always  demands  a  leader;  it  cannot  well  be  a 

1  In  addition  to  the  references  already  given  in  the  chapter  referred 
to,  see  W.  D.  Scott,  Psychology  of  Public  Speaking,  pp.  140-184;  L.  W. 
Kline,  "The  Sermon:  A  Study  in  Social  Psychology,"  American  Journal 
0}  Religious  Psychology  and  Education,  I,  pp.  288-300. 


484  PREACHING 

crowd  without  one.  The  preacher,  of  course,  fills  this  role. 
His  personality,  especially  those  physical  qualities  which  do 
not  seem  to  be  otherwise  essential,  aids  him  in  this  position. 
The  greater  the  authority  he  presents  the  more  easily  the 
crowd  accepts  him.  Because  of  this,  the  crowd  becomes  very 
credulous  and  receives  without  question  anything  which  he 
suggests.  The  ignorant  preacher,  like  a  ward  politician,  un- 
consciously probably,  but  none  the  less  truly,  becomes  a 
practical  psychologist  of  power  in  a  limited  sphere.  As  a 
leader  the  preacher  not  only  speaks  with  some  authority,  but 
he  already  has,  on  account  of  his  position,  the  confidence  of 
the  congregation,  and  thereby  has  a  great  advantage  over  the 
ordinary  speaker  who  may  have  to  win  his  way.  Authority 
and  confidence  are  two  important  factors  in  rendering  an 
audience  suggestible. 

Having  these,  how  shall  a  preacher  proceed  ?  He  must  fit 
the  sermon  to  the  crowd,  and  this  is  quite  different  from  fit- 
ting the  same  address  to  the  different  individuals  of  the 
crowd.  We  have  already  noticed  that  we  cannot  reason  with 
a  crowd,  no  matter  how  reasonable  each  member  of  the  crowd 
may  be  individually.  By  becoming  members  of  the  crowd 
they  are  thereby  deprived  of  reason  for  the  time.  That  does 
not  mean  that  unreasonable  things  may  be  baldly  suggested, 
but  that  no  logical  development  and  process  can  be  profitably 
used.  Affirm,  affirm  the  same  thing  emphatically  and  re- 
peatedly is  the  rule.  These  affirmations  are  the  more  effective 
for  being  arranged  so  as  to  reach  a  climax,  but  repetition  of  the 
affirmation  periodically  in  the  sermon  is  the  principal  thing. 

What  this  affirmation  should  consist  of  is  not  so  important 
so  long  as  it  contains  common  ideas  saturated  with  feeling. 
The  more  vague  it  is  in  definition,  within  limits,  the  more 
effective  it  is  found  to  be.  Such  words  as  unity,  brother- 
hood, salvation,  or  freedom  are  examples  of  those  on  which 
the  changes  should  be  rung.    They  are  universal  in  applica- 


PREACHING  485 

tion  and  stimulate  the  fundamental  sentiments  of  human 
nature,  so  all  the  congregation  can  be  influenced  thereby. 
While  these  ideas  may  be  general  and  more  or  less  vague, 
the  crowd  thinks  concretely.  Figures  of  speech,  especially 
the  metaphor,  are  therefore,  much  appreciated  by  the  crowd 
and  as  a  rule  very  effective.  If  these  figures  can  be  used  so 
as  to  suggest  the  climax  and  conclusion,  and  have  the  audi- 
ence arrive  at  the  conclusion  before  it  is  stated,  then  the 
statement  comes  as  a  verification  of  its  own  conclusion  and  is 
welcomed  heartily.  The  preacher  loses  somewhat  on  account 
of  the  inability  of  the  audience  to  applaud,  but  all  things  con- 
sidered, he  has  a  better  opportunity  than  the  ordinary  speaker 
to  create  the  psychological  crowd  and  to  handle  it. 

We  must  recognize  that  rarely  if  ever  does  the  entire  con- 
gregation lose  itself  in  the  crowd.  There  are  some  who  will 
remain  indifferent  and  others  who  will  be  critical.  The  reac- 
tion is,  therefore,  different;  some  are  unchanged,  some  are 
bored,  but  the  majority  are  affected.  The  emotions  are 
stirred,  the  intellect  quickened,  and  this  finally  develops  into 
conduct  in  some  cases.  The  reader  should  notice  that  the 
ethics  of  forming  and  influencing  a  psychological  crowd  is 
not  discussed  here.  I  am  neither  recommending  nor  con- 
demning it,  but  simply  endeavoring  to  state  the  facts. 

The  matter  of  mental  imagery  has  been  referred  to  and 
should  receive  further  consideration.  In  the  chapter  on  Im- 
agination the  value  of  the  imagination  in  religion  was  indi- 
cated, and  the  fact  that  imagined  lines  of  conduct,  in  com- 
mon with  all  ideas,  tend  to  be  realized  is  set  forth  as  an  im- 
portant psychological  fact.  Most  persons  are  able  to  repro- 
duce visual  images  easily,  and  the  great  orators  of  the  past 
have  used  visual  imagery  as  frequently  as  all  other  kinds 
combined.1    Every  speaker,  however,  is  inclined  to  use  that 

1  W.  D.  Scott,  Psychology  of  Public  Speaking,  p.  44;  the  whole  treat- 
ment of  the  subject  here  is  interesting. 


486  PREACHING 

form  of  imagery  which  impresses  him  most.  The  general 
order  of  frequency  of  mental  images  is  visual,  auditory, 
motor,  tactile,  olfactory,  gustatory,  pain,  and  temperature. 

Mental  imagery  is  especially  valuable  to  a  preacher  in 
arousing  emotion.  If  an  object  is  described  so  clearly  that 
the  auditors  have  no  trouble  in  forming  a  mental  image  of  it, 
the  emotions  are  almost  sure  to  be  awakened.  Certain 
forms  of  imagery  are  most  successful  in  stirring  certain  emo- 
tions, as,  e.  g.,  auditory  images  are  more  likely  to  produce  fear 
than  are  visual  ones. 

Not  only  are  we  affected  by  the  words  which  are  spoken, 
but  the  expression  of  the  speaker  is  very  suggestive.  Actors 
are  divided  into  two  schools,  one  of  which  claims  that  an 
actor  must  himself  feel  the  emotion  to  which  he  gives  ex- 
pression, and  the  other  opines  that  feeling  the  emotion  would 
spoil  the  art.  .No  doubt  that  in  most  if  not  in  all  actors  there 
is  some  feeling.  In  the  pulpit  it  is  to  be  supposed  that  the 
preacher  feels  what  he  expresses,  and  as  he  is  moved  so  he 
moves  his  audience.  We  do  not  have  to  learn  how  to  express 
emotion  or  how  to  interpret  the  emotional  expression  on  the 
part  of  others;  we  do  these  things  instinctively.  Both,  how- 
ever, may  be  cultivated  so  as  to  be  more  exact  and  more 
decided. 

Three  principles  of  emotional  expression  are  laid  down  by 
Spencer,  Darwin,  and  Wundt,  respectively.  First,  the  vio- 
lence of  the  physical  expression  is  in  proportion  to  the  in- 
tensity of  the  emotions,  i.  en  intense  emotions  are  accompanied 
by  violent  expressions,  and  weak  emotions  by  weak  expres- 
sions. Supplementary  to  this  is  the  following:  the  nervous 
excitement  which  accompanies  emotions  affects  the  muscles 
in  the  inverse  order  of  their  size  and  the  weights  of  the  parts 
to  which  they  are  attached.  From  this  we  may  understand 
why  the  muscles  of  the  face  are  so  easily  moved,  and  why 
each  facial  muscle  is  moved  as  it  is  to  correspond  to  the  in- 


PREACHING  487 

tensity  of  the  emotion.  We  can  also  understand  the  disgust 
which  is  generated  when  there  is  an  exaggerated  expression 
of  a  weak  emotion. 

Second  is  the  principle  of  serviceable  associated  habits. 
Our  primitive  ancestors  in  case  of  fear,  for  example,  would 
shut  their  eyes,  hold  their  breath,  crouch,  etc.,  in  order  to 
better  meet  the  anticipated  attack.  Even  although  these 
have  now  ceased  to  be  of  value  they  are  retained  by  us.  The 
third  principle  is  that  of  associated  related  feelings.  For  in- 
stance, a  "bitter"  experience  is  expressed  in  a  manner  simi- 
lar to  the  movements  we  make  in  tasting  a  bitter  substance; 
a  pleasant  experience  has  concomitant  "sweet"  expressions. 
These  three  principles  of  expression  will  cover  all  cases,  and 
prove  an  explanation  of,  as  well  as  a  guide  for,  the  expression 
of  the  emotions  in  public  speaking.  In  cases  where  the  audi- 
ence is  some  distance  from  the  speaker  the  facial  expression 
may  have  to  be  exaggerated  in  order  to  be  detected.1 

Expression  attracts  attention  far  more  easily  than  do 
words,  as  the  visual  is  always  more  attractive  than  the  audi- 
tory. By  the  means  of  expression,  then,  we  are  able  to  get 
the  maximum  of  impression  with  the  minimum  of  tax  on  the 
voluntary  attention,  and  a  great  gain  is  made  thereby.  The 
preacher  must  use  all  legitimate  help  he  can  from  every 
source  so  that  the  effectiveness  of  the  message  may  be  aug- 
mented, or  at  least  have  a  fair  chance,  on  account  of  the 
delivery. 

1  For  a  fuller  discussion  of  this  subject,  see  W.  D.  Scott,  Psychology 
oj  Public  Speaking,  pp.  63-101;  C.  Darwin,  Expressions  0}  the  Emotions 
in  Man  and  Animals;  H.  Spencer,  Language  of  the  Emotions. 


INDEX  OF  NAMES 


Abbot,  E.  H.,  265. 

Abraham,  St.,  142. 

Achille,  114  ft- 

Acquinas,  T.,  315. 

Adams,  W.  H.  D.,  404. 

^Esculapius,  197. 

Alacoque,  Margaret  Mary,  64,  125. 

Albert  the  Great,  68,  121. 

Alexander,  106. 

Alexander  IV,  Pope,  80. 

Allen,  177. 

Allen,  A.  V.  G.,  119,  122,  450. 

American  Journal  of  Religious  Psy- 
chology and  Education,  62,  233, 
266,  281,  308,  315,  327,  344,  351, 
37i»  375.  378>  4oo,  408,  409,  410, 
416,  455.  483. 

Amos,  344. 

Ananias,  226. 

Anthony,  St.,  64,  135,  142,  148. 

Aristotle,  149,  198,  358. 

Artigales  and  Remond,  83. 

Athanasius,  132. 

Augustine,  49,  64,  314. 

Aurelius,  Marcus,  121. 

Avila,  J.  d',  68. 

Bacon,  Roger,  121. 

Bain,  A.,  237. 

Baker,  Rachel,  58. 

Balaam,  Joan,  129. 

Banks,  J.  S.,  362. 

Barber,  177,  179. 

Baring-Gould,  S.,  40  . 

Barnes,  E.,  274. 

Barrows,  Ira,  114. 

Bashkirtseff,  Marie,  383. 

Basil,  St.,  134,  148,  446. 

Beauchamp,  Misses,  114. 

Beck,  F.  O.,  408,  410,  416. 

Beecher,  H.  W.,  30,  347. 

Beethoven,  353. 

Bellamy,  177. 

Benedict,  St.,  148. 

Bernard  of  Clair vaux,  28,  120,  350. 


Bernheim,  H.,  204,  207,  212. 

Berridge,  179. 

Binder,  Katherine,  128. 

Binet  and  Fere,  82. 

Bishop,  Edward,  96. 

Blake,  W.,  347. 

Blandina,  41. 

Bliss,  177. 

Blumhardt,  Jno.,  206. 

Bodin,  90. 

Bohme,  J.,  29,  443. 

Bonaventura,  St.,  80,  132. 

Boniface,  St.,  135. 

Booth,  E.,  53. 

Bottazzi,  Prof.  F.,  475. 

Bourru  and  Burot,  82. 

Bowne,  B.  P.,  318. 

Bradstreet,  John,  102. 

Brastow,  L.  O.,  25. 

Brinton,  346. 

Brooks,  Jane,  92;    P.,  30,  410,  478. 

Brown,  H.  W.,  274. 

Brown-Sequard,  Dr.,  44. 

Browne,  Sir  T.,  161. 

Brutus,  64. 

Buckland,  Prof.,  204. 

Buddha,  133. 

Bunyan,  J.,  77,  422. 

Burke,  V.,  144. 

Burroughs,  Geo.,  95,  98. 

Bushnell,  H.,  193,  338. 

Caesar,  Julius,  64. 
Caird,  J.,  305. 
Calvin,  J.,  108. 
Cardwell,  R.  C,  117. 
Carpenter,  W.  B.,  76,  81,  92,  202. 
Carrington,  H.,  473. 
Case,  C.  D.,  293,  295,  296. 
Catherine,  St.,  65,  80,  81,  125,  128, 

436- 
Chalmers,  Thomas,  252. 
Chamberlain,  B.  H.,  116,  117. 
Chandler,  W.  A.,  174,  178,  179,  182, 

183,  184. 


49° 


INDEX  OF  NAMES 


Chantal,  Mme.  de,  125. 

Charcot,  J.  M.,  102,  205. 

Charles  II,  202;    X,  202. 

Chauncy,  C,  178;    Sir  H.,  103. 

Chrysostom,  49. 

Clark,  H.  W.,  311. 

Clarke,  R.  F.,  205. 

Clement  of  Alexandria,  25. 

Cobbe,  F.  B.,  74. 

Coe,  G.  A.,  23,  34,  77,  187,  188,  191, 

311,  215,  242,  256,  276,  277,  280, 
282,  289,  296,  306,  313,  362,  376, 
378,  400,   406,  407,  413. 

Coleridge,  H.,  55,  75. 

Constantine,  62,  256. 

Conway,  M.  D.,  404. 

Coomes,  M.  F.,  87. 

Cooper,  Job,  59. 

Corey,  Giles,  95. 

Corner-Ohlmus,  C,  112. 

Cotton,  C,  182. 

Crippen,  Narcissa,  143;   T.  G.,  118, 

420. 
Crookes,  Sir  W.,  474. 
Cudworth,  Ralph,  161. 
Cullender,  Rose,  92. 
Cyprian,  449. 

D'Alviella,  302. 

Daniels,  A.  H.,  237,  277. 

Darwin,  C,  487. 

Davenport,  F.  M.,  30,  52,  70,  in, 

127,  165,  172,  177,  178,  179,  180, 

182,  183,  184,  187,  191,  286,  293, 

300,  362,  430,  435. 
Davidson,  A.  B.,  60. 
Davis,  A.  J.,  444. 
Day,  G.  E.,  85. 
Deming,  C,  172. 
Denney,  J.,  49. 
Densmore,  E.,  291. 
Dickens,  C,  124. 
Dionysius  the  Areopagite,  32. 
Dixon,  W.  H.,  291,  439,  442,  443, 

449. 
Dom  Guido,  447. 
Dorcas,  227. 
Douglass,  Dr.,  58. 
Dowie,  J.  A.,  206. 
Dresser,  221. 
Drummond,  H.,  338. 
Dubois,  W.  E.  B.,  172. 
Du  Buy,  J.,  281. 
Duff,  Alex.,  77. 
Dumas,  Dr.  G.,  143. 


Duns  Scotus,  315. 
Duny,  Amy,  92. 

Ebel,  W.,  441,  442. 

Eckhart,  25,  364. 

Eddy,  I.,  53;    Mrs.  Mary,  214,  217, 

218,  219,  221,  223. 
Edmonds,  Judge,  56. 
Edwards,  Jon.,  176,  177,  178,  179, 

240,  265,  267,  336  /.,  384. 
Elbe,  L.,  465. 
Elisha,  344,  398. 
Elizabeth  of  Hungary,  125. 
Ellis,  H.,  45,  72,  90,  237,  288,  294, 

420,  423. 
Elymas,  226. 

Emerson,  R.  W.,  24,  407. 
Encyclopedia    Britannica,     78,    85, 

in. 
Enricon,  Count,  155. 
Erasmus,  422. 
Erskine,  Rev.  R.,  337. 
Esquirol,  E.,  116. 
Estrade,  J.  B.,  205. 
Euphraxia,  St.,  142. 
Everett,  C.  C,  24,  27,  29,  71,  130, 

3°6>  349.  37°,  37i.  380. 

Fabian,  Pope,  108. 

Fairfield,  F.  G.,  56. 

Fairvveather,  W.,  106. 

Faraday,  316. 

Fenelon,  436. 

Ferreus,  H.,  156. 

Fian,  Dr.,  97. 

Finney,  C.  G.,  164,  182,  184,  191, 

206,  256,  376. 
Fisher,  G.  P.,  62,  103,  127,  134,  199, 

3°7,  3*5.  388,  398,  45°- 
Fiske,  J.,  92,  93,  96,  102,  103,  272. 
Flammarion,  C,  474. 
Fletcher,  221. 
Fliegen,  Eve,  129. 
Flournoy,  T.,  348. 
Forel,  A.,  207. 
Fox,  George,  206. 
Francis,  I,  202;  St.,  of  Assisi,  27,  ^^, 

41,  64,  79/.,  120,  125,   126,  132, 

378,  408. 
Francois,  St.,  de  Sales,  64. 
Franklin    B.,  207. 
Frere,  W.  H.,  393. 
Froude,  J.  A.,  422. 
Fry,  Elizabeth,  77. 


INDEX  OF  NAMES 


491 


G ALTON,  F.,   129,  423. 
Gamond,  Blanche,  40. 
Gardiner,  James,  77. 
Gardner,  Col.,  429. 
Garland,  H.,  475. 
Gassner,  J.  J.,  206. 
Geddes  and  Thompson,  286,  446. 
Gertrude,  St.,  64,  303,  436,  437. 
Gibbon,  E.,  155. 
Giles,  Brother,  123. 
Glanvill,  J.,  302. 
Goodwin,  Martha,  96;    Mrs.,  99. 
Gothe,  W.  von,  443. 
Gottschalk,  155. 
G randier,  U.,  109. 
Granger,  F.,   24,   29,  42,   in,   124, 
130,    135,    186,    194,    237,    259/., 

347>  392,  425- 
Greatrakes,  V.,  206. 
Gregory,  I,  200. 
Gridley,  Dr.,  443. 
Guyon,  Mme.,  39,  384,  437. 

Hale,  Sir  M.,  161. 

Hall,  G.  S.,  87,  125,  178,  240,  274, 

276,  279,  282,  428. 
Hammond,  E.  P.,  268;   W.  A.,  12S, 

143- 
Harnack,  A.,  123,  302,  436. 
Hastings'  Bible  Dictionary,  49,  60, 

72,  78,  91,  106,  108,  317. 
Hastings'  Dictionary  of  Christ,  etc., 

49.  78,  105. 
Hastings,  J.,  78. 
Hawthorne,  N.,  88. 
Hawthornthwaite,  S.,  54. 
Hayes,  S.  P.,  178. 
Heath,  R.,  56. 
Hecker,  J.  F.  C,  93,  158,  162,  163, 

165- 
Hegel,  G.  W.  F.,  29,  302. 
Helmont,  J.  B.  von,  207. 
Herbart,  J.  F.,  370. 
Hervey,  G.  W.,  337. 
Hicks,  179;    Mrs.,  93. 
Hildebrand,  121. 
Hill,  D.  S.,  409. 
Hohenlohe,  Prince,  206. 
Hopkins,  Matthew,  99. 
Howard,  J.  R.,  348. 
Hughes,  T.,  296. 
Hugo  of  St.  Victor,  315. 
Hurd,    Rev.    C,    262    /.;     Marion, 

263/. 
Huxley,  T.  H.,  465- 


Hylan,  J.  P.,  394,  396,  398- 
Hyslop,  J.  H.,  471,  473.  474,  475; 
T.  B.,  412. 

Illingworth,  J.  R.,  403. 

Indian,  John,  96,  97. 

Inge,  W.  R.,  22,  23,  24,  27,  63,  68, 

138,  3°5-  328,  381,  435,  437- 
Innocent  III,  156;    VII,  160. 
Irving,  E.,  53. 
Isaiah,  353. 

Jacob,  Sarah,  129. 

James  I,  97;   II,  202. 

James,  W.,  13,  27,  31,  33,  39,  40,  4i, 
46,  62,  69,  71,  114,  122,  124,  125, 
126,  139,  142,  188,  218,  236,  238, 
240,  242,  245,  246,  256,  260,  301, 
3°5,  32°>  327,  354,  362>  37°,  372, 
373,  377,  378,  403,  4i3,  4i5,  429, 
43i,  437,  438,  459,  402,  467,  474- 

Janet,  Prof.,  114  /. 

Jastrow,  J.,  73,  473. 

Jeanne  des  Anges,  Sceur,  109,  437. 

Jerome,  St.,  134,  142,  148. 

Jesus,  23,  105  /.,  123,  127,  133,  223- 
231,  295-298,  301,  314,  352,  359, 
361,  446. 

Joan  of  Arc,  65,  424. 

John,  23,  227,  381;  St.,  of  the  Cross, 
33,  68,  138,  303,  373;  St.,  of  God, 
125;  of  Leyden,  442,  443;  of  Ly- 
copolis,  446;    Pope,  XXIII,  453. 

Johnson,  C,  4755  E-  H->  339,  34°t 
34i- 

Jones,  R.,  92. 

Jovinian,  138. 

Julian  of  Norwich,  64,  437. 

Kant,  I.,  330,  466. 

Kaplan,  J.  H.,  344,  345,  351- 

Kennard,  J.  S.,  478. 

King,  E.  A.,  200. 

Kinsley,  W.  W.,  417. 

Kline,  L.  W.,  483. 

Knight,  C,  93,  103. 

Krafft-Ebing,  R.  von,  424,  426. 

Ladd,  G.  T.,  21,  25,  73,  77,  137, 
215,  3o6>  32i,  322,  33°,  33*,  334, 
338,  339,  343,  354,  355,  360,  368, 
375,  378,  379,  405,  408,  426,  429, 

457- 
Lambert,  J.  C,  78. 
Lapponi,  Dr.  G.,  474. 


492 


INDEX  OF  NAMES 


Lassiguardie,  Dr.,  132. 

Lateau,  Louise,  65,  85  /. 

Law,  W.,  381. 

Lazarus,  227. 

Le  Barron,  A.,  53. 

Le  Bon,  G.,  165,  288. 

Lecky,  W.  E.  H.,  63,  98,  135,  142, 

202,  287,  290,  295,  299,  421,  450, 

454,  461. 
Lee,  Ann,  443,  444. 
Lefebvre,  Dr.,  86. 
Leibault,  Dr.,  207. 
Lentulus,  Paulus,  128. 
Leonie,  114. 
Leuba,  J.  H.,  32,  36,  237,  241,  249, 

266,  308,  315,  371,  375,  376,  378. 
Livingston,  J.,  176. 
Lodge,  Sir  O.,  474. 
Lombroso,  C,  474. 
Louis  XV.,  169;   St.,  124;   V.,  82. 
Louvier,  no. 
Luke,  50,  52,  107. 
Lukins,  Geo.,  in. 
Luther,  M.,  89,  108,  245,  306,  398, 

460. 

Macatjlay,  T.  B.,  202. 

McConnell,  S.  D.,  467. 

McDonald,  J.  H.,  189. 

McGee,  180. 

McGiffert,  A.  C,  51. 

McGready,  Rev.  J.,  180. 

Mackay,  C.,  103,  200. 

Macpherson,  J.,  176. 

Magoutier,  Marie,  65. 

Malory,  142,  143. 

Manacei'ne,  M.  de,  72. 

Manwell,  S.  A.,  58. 

Marconi,  G.,  474. 

Margaret,  St.,  65,  303. 

Marguerite  Marie,  383. 

Marie  de  l'lncarnation,  437,  438. 

Marillier,  L.,  66. 

Mark,  23,  107,  228. 

Marshall,  H.  R.,  136. 

Martin,  St.,  of  Tours,  132;  Su- 
sannah,  93. 

Martineau,  J.,  30,  302. 

Martyr,  Justin,  388,  449. 

Mather,  Cotton,  96,  104;  Increase, 
102. 

Matthew,  77,  107,  236. 

Matthieson,  H.,  443. 

Maudsley,  H.,  445. 

Maxwell,  W.,  207. 


Melanchthon,  P.,  108. 

Mesmer,  A.,  207. 

Meyer,  H.  A.  W.,  50. 

Michelangelo,  42. 

Mill,  J.  S.,  467. 

Milman,  H.  H.,  450. 

Milmine,  G.,  214. 

Milton,  J.,  347. 

Mitchell,  Dr.,  58. 

Mohammed,  73,  346. 

Molinos,  M.  de,  68. 

Moll,  A.,  43,  56,  73,  75,  83,  197,  207. 

Moody,  D.  L.,  144,  183  /.,  192;    W 

R.,  184. 
Moore,  Ann,  129. 
Morel,  Marie  de,  65. 
Moses,  J.,   22,   124,   130,   133,   137, 

178,  182,  200,  313,  404,  420,  435, 

445- 
Muller,  G.,  416/.;   J.,  213. 
Munger,  T.,  198. 
Munsterberg,  H.,  214. 
Murisier,  E.,  21. 
Myers,  F.  W.  H.,  75,  83,  87,  102,  109, 

205,  219,  354,  415,  427,  470,  471, 

472. 

Nettleton,  Rev.  A.,  182,  191. 

Nevins,  W.  S.,  89,  103. 

Nevius,  J.  L.,  54,  112,  113. 

Newell,  206. 

New     International     Encyclopedia, 

79,  91,  108. 
Newman,  J.  H.,  195. 
Newton,  J.,  77. 
Nichol,  T.,  49. 
Nicholas,  156. 
Norman,  C.,  423. 
North,  Roger,  94. 
Northcote,  H.,  423. 
Noyes,  J.  H.,  440,  442,  444. 
Nystrom,  A.,  423. 

Occam,  307. 

Oesterley,  W.  O.  E.,  105- 

Origen,  25. 

Pachomius,  148. 
Palodino,  E.,  475. 
Paracelsus,  203,  207. 
Paris,  Deacon,  168,  205. 
Parish,  E.,  44,  71,  101,  109. 
Parkman,  F.,  439. 
Parris,  S.,  95,  96,  99. 
Parsons,  177. 


INDEX  OF  NAMES 


493 


Patrick,  St.,  77. 

Patton,  W.  W.,  417. 

Paul,  23  /.,  26,  51,  62,  127,  133,  228  /. 

233.  235>  256>  348,  469- 
Paul  of  Thebes,  134,  147,  148. 
Paula,  142. 
Payne,  Jos.,  59. 
Peter,  226,  227  /.,  446. 
Peter  the  Hermit,  152,  153,  154. 
Pettigrevv,  T.  J.,  201. 
Pfleiderer,  O.,  260. 
Phidias,  353. 
Philip,  R.,  178. 
Pierce,  M.,  114. 
Pierre,  St.,  383. 
Piper,  Mrs.,  474. 
Pius  II,  81. 
Poeman,  St.,  142. 
Pomroy,  177. 
Ponponazzi,  P.,  203. 
Pope,  A.,  360. 
Porcus,  W.,  156. 
Pratt,  J.  B.,  27,  32,  42,  45,  113,  127, 

274,  282,  308,  309,  346,  408. 
Price,  I.  M.,  185. 
Priestly,  Dr.,  58. 
Prince,  H.  J.,  441,  442;    M.,  69. 
Putnam,  Ann,  95;    Mrs.,  95,  97. 
Pyrrhus,  202. 

QUIMBY,  P.  P.,  214. 

Ramanathan,  P.,  34. 

Ransom,  S.  W.,  410. 

Raphael,  64,  354. 

Raymond,  G.  L.,  40,  351. 

Remigius,  160. 

Remy,  Judge,  98. 

Renata,  Maria,  103. 

Rhodes,  A.  S.,  434. 

Ribet,  436. 

Ribot,  T.,   43,   46,   102,   no,   253, 

375.  38o,  394,  479- 
Richard  of  St.  Victor,  68. 
Richet,  Prof.  C,  474. 
Rider,  440. 
Ridpath,  J.  C,  96. 
Riley,  I.  W.,  53,  54. 
Ritschl,  A.,  427. 
Roberts,  Evan,  184. 
Robertson,  A.,  49. 
Romanes,    G.    J.,    288,    293,    298, 

302. 
Royse,  C.  D.,  62,  233. 


Ruskin,  J.,  334,  392. 

Rusticus,  142. 

Ruysbroek,  John  of,  27,  35,  364. 

Sabatier,  A.,  370,  403;   P.,  79. 

Sankey,  I.  D.,  183. 

Santanelli,  207. 

Sapphira,  226. 

Saul,  344. 

Savonarola,  346,  347. 

Scaramelli,  436. 

Schaff,  P.,  50. 

Schlatter,  206. 

Schleiermacher,  F.  E.  D.,  5,  24,  25, 
29,  370. 

Schroder,  206. 

Schroder  van  der  Kolk,  423. 

Schroeder,  T.,  455. 

Schwann,  T.,  86. 

Scott,  W.,  73,  94,  99,  101,  103. 

Scott,  W.  D.,  482,  483,  485,  487. 

Scotus  Erigena,  25. 

Shakespeare,  W.,  353. 

Sharp,  C.  K.,  90. 

Shaw,  Christian,  93;   T.  C,  291. 

Sheldon,  440,  442. 

Sherman,  E.  B.,  182. 

Shinn,  M.  W.,  274. 

Sidis,  B.,  98,  99,  162,  167,  182,  183, 
194. 

Silvia,  142. 

Simeon  Stylites,  128,  135. 

Smith,  Helene,  348;  J.,  303;  Jos., 
65,  in,  346,  444;    R.,  68,  345. 

Society  for  Psychical  Research,  Pro- 
ceedings of,  53,  66,  211,  219. 

Speer,  R.  E.,  296. 

Spencer,  H.,  25,  119,  487. 

Spitzka,  R.  C,  424. 

Stanley,  H.  M.,  406. 

Starbuck,  E.  D.,  188,  236,  237,  240, 
25I»  257>  276,  277,  279,  282,  288, 
312,  327,  363,  370,  376,  428. 

Starke,  Frau,  206. 

Stephen  of  Cloyes,  155. 

Stevenson,  R.  L.,  76,  131. 

Stoddard,  S.,  176. 

Stone,  E.,  440. 

Street,  J.  R.,  274. 

Strong,  A.  L.,  410. 

Stuckenborg,  Mrs.,  87. 

Sully,  J.,  274. 

Sunday,  Rev.  W.,  190/. 

Super,  C.  W.,  400. 

Surin,  Father,  109. 


494 


INDEX  OF  NAMES 


Suso,  H.,  64,  138,  140,  142,  436. 
Swedenborg,  E.,  29,  64,  440,  443. 

Tauler,  J.,  68,  138. 
Taylor,  I.,  40,  448,  452,  453. 
Tennant,  G.  and  W.,  178. 
Teresa,  St.,  27,   29,  30,  39,  42,  61, 

64,  143,  3°3,  335,  374,  436,  437- 
Tersteegen,  G.,  443. 
Thomas,  W.  I.,  285,  292. 
Thompson,  H.  B.,  291. 
Tillinghart,  J.  A.,  171. 
Timothy,  234. 
Tissot,  Prof.,  55. 
Trine,  R.  W.,  221. 
Tuckey,  C.  L.,  44,  73,  83,  203,  207. 
Tuke,  D.  H.,  213. 
Tylor,  E.  B.,  60,  130. 
Tyndall,  J.,  333. 

Unbekannt,  409. 
Upton,  370. 
Urban  II,  153,  154. 

Vaughn,  R.  A.,  42. 
Vernon,  Dr.,  206. 
Vespasian,  202. 
Victor  Emanuel,  203. 
Virchow,  R.,  87. 
Volkar,  155. 


Waldstein,  L.,  72,  198,  354. 
Walter  the  Penniless,  154,  155. 
Warfield,  B.  B.,  77,  317. 
Warloment,  E.,  86. 
Weininger,  O.,  285,  446,  461. 
Weiss,  Margaret,  128. 
Well  wood,  A.,  384. 
Wenham,  Jane,  103. 
Wetterstrand,  O.  G.,  207. 
Wheelock,  177. 
Whichcote,  B.,  303. 
White,  A.  D.,  55,  201,  202;   W.,  29. 
Whitefield,  G.,  177/.,  336. 
Whitehouse,  O.  C.,  72,  91,  108. 
Wier,  428. 
William  III,  202. 
Winthrop,  Gov.,  198. 
Wishart,  A.  W.,  122,  144. 
Wood,  H.,  211,  221. 
Wordsworth,  W.,  335. 
Wright,  A.,  52,  54,  57,  59J    T.  H 
105. 

Xavier,  Francis,  125. 

Yandell,  D.  W.,  182. 
Young,  B.,  444. 

Zaccheus,  234. 
Zevi,  Sabbathai,  170. 
Zouave,  Jacob,  206. 
Zwingli,  U.,  108. 


INDEX   OF    SUBJECTS 


Abnormal,  Conditions,  4,  354. 

Adolescence,  274-282;  characteris- 
tics of,  276-281;  divisions  of, 
275- 

Esthetics,  353  /.,  378  #•>  3°i- 

Age,  Chap.  XIX,  divisions  of,  270. 

Agnosticism,  324. 

Anaesthesia,  40  /. 

Apostolic  Faith  Movement,  57. 

Asceticism,  Chap.  XI.  See  Monas- 
ticism. 

Awakening,  Religious,  277. 

Awe,  377  /. 

Belief,  282,  soS  ff.,  311,  365. 
Body  and  mind  in  disease,  208  /. 

Castration,  444  ff. 

Catholic  Apostolic  Church,  53. 

Celibacy,  446-454. 

Ceremonial,  390  ff. 

Children,  262-274;  characteristics 
of,  270-274;  crusades  of,  155- 
157;  ideas  of  God  among,  271  /.; 
training  of,  268  ff. 

Christian  Science,  Chap.  XVI;  phil- 
osophical postulates  of,  215;  psy- 
chological explanation  of,  215  ff. 

Cleanliness,  142. 

Cognition.     See  Knowledge. 

Confession,  124/.,  453. 

Contagion,  Psychic,  Chap.  XIII, 
examples  of,  163-165,  167  /., 
168  /.,  170,  173;  in  revivals,  187  /.; 
laws  of,  163-165. 

Continence,  124,  444-455. 

Conversion,  Chap.  XVIII,  counter, 
236;  definition  of,  236-238,  362; 
factors  of,  239-250;  forms  of,  236, 
254;  instantaneous,  233  /.;  of 
adolescents,  276  ff.;  of  children, 
267  /.;  power  of,  251  ff.;  results 
of,  249-251;    uniform,  233/.,  235. 

Conviction,  239  /. 

Convulsionaries,  38,  168/. 


Crowd.     See  Contagion. 
Crusades,  152-157;   children's,  155- 
157;    first,  154/. 

Dance,  38,  158-160;  St.  John's, 
158/.;   St.  Vitus',  158/. 

Demoniacal  possession,  Chap.  X,  54, 
89;  cases  of,  107,  108-112,  113, 
114  ff.;  theories  of,  105/.,  113  ff., 
117;    subjects  of,  116. 

Denominationalism,  Chap.  XXX, 
298  ff.;  cause  of,  457-461;  neces- 
sity of,  456  /.;    value  of,  461-464. 

Divine  elements,  232,  259$. 

Dominicans,  79,  80/.,  145. 

Doubt,  242,  279$.,  312-314.;  divi- 
sions of,  313. 

Dreams,  Chap.  VII;  character  of, 
73  /.;  of  prophecy,  72;  work  dur- 
ing. 74  ff- 

Ecstasy,  Chap.  IV,  21,  69;  causes 
of,  42;   kinds  of,  45. 

Emotions,  Chap.  XXVI,  188,  247  /., 
250,  252,  272,  287,  305,  325-328, 
36o>  363-  394/-/  decline  of,  374; 
expression  of,  373  /.,  486  /.;  kinds 
of,  374-386;    value  of,  370  ff. 

Epidemics,  religious,  Chap.  XII, 
decline  of,  161. 

Epistemology.     See  Knowledge. 

Exorcism,  108,  in  /. 

Faculty,  Religious,  Chap.  II,  356. 
Faith,   227,   228/.,  246/.,  314-317; 

classes  of,  315. 
Faith  cure,  Chap.  XV,  220  /.,  225  /., 

229;    classes  of,  204,  214;    early, 

196  ff.;    theories  of,  207-213. 
Fasting,    80,    124,    127-133;     effects 

of,  130-133;    girls,  128/. 
Fear,  375  ff. 

Feelings.     See  Emotions. 
Flagellants,  157  /. 
Franciscans,  79,  80  /.,  145,  149. 


495 


496 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS 


Genius,  16  /.,  353  ft. 

Glossolalia,    Chap.  V,  Luke's    idea 

of,    49/.;     modern   view   of,    52; 

Paul's  idea  of,  50/. 
Great  Awakening,  The,  176-179. 

Healers,  206. 

Humility,  124/.,  385. 

Hypnotism,  207  /.,  218,  225  /.,  257  /. 

Imagination,  Chap.  XXIII,  kinds 
of,  334  /./    uses  of,  336  /.;    value 

of,  332/-,  335,  33%  ft- 

Immortality,  Chap.  XXXI,  objec- 
tion to,  466-468;  spiritism  and, 
468-476. 

Inner  light,  327  /. 

Inspiration,  Chap.  XXIV,  kinds  of, 
349  ft-,  355  /-,"  modern,  347  /.;  of 
founders  of  religions,  343;  primi- 
tive, 343  /.,  345. 

Intellect,  Chap.  XXI,  286/.;  as 
arbiter,  305;  as  source,  306;  de- 
ficiency of,  303;  value  in  religion, 
3°3/- 

Jumpers,  169. 

Kenosis,  105. 

Kentucky  revival,  179-182. 

King's  touch,  202  /. 

Knowledge,  Chap.  XXII,  28  /.;  fac- 
tors of,  323-329;  religious,  320  ft.; 
value  of,  330  /. 

Love,  33  /.,  380-385. 

Memory,  Exalted,  55  /.,  74;  in- 
herited, 56. 

Mental  healing.     See  Faith  Cure. 

Miracles,  Chap.  XVIII,  definition 
of,  224. 

Monasticism,  Chap.  XI,  147-151; 
decline  of,  150;  stages  of,  119; 
value  of,  120/. 

Mormonism,  53. 

Mould,  The  Human,  Chap.  I. 

Music,  397-401,  430. 

Mysticism,  Chap.  Ill,  kinds  of,  22, 
29/-,  35;  stages  of,  31/.;  value 
of,  31. 

Negroes,  170-173. 
Newness,  feeling  of,  247  /. 


Obedience,  124,  125/. 
Odor  of  sanctity,  142  /. 

Pantheism,  24. 

Pentecost,  49  /. 

Pilgrimages,  151  /. 

Poverty,  124,  126. 

Prayer,  Chap.  XXVIII,  21,  204; 
decline  of,  405  /.;  definition  of, 
403;  limits  of,  406/7".;  method  of, 
404;  tests  of,  416;  value  of,  409- 
418. 

Preaching,  Chap.  XXXII,  attention 
and,  478-481;  emotional  expres- 
sion in,  486  /.;  imagery  and,  485  /.; 
personality  and,  478;  rhythm  in, 
482  /.;   suggestion  in,  483  ft. 

Presence  of  God,  27. 

Psychological  data,  9/.,  232/. 

Psychological  study  of  religion,  5,  6ft. 

Reason.     See  Intellect. 

Relics,  199  ft. 

Religion  comprehensive,  12,  19,  238. 

Religious  bias,  12/. 

Repentance,  361. 

Resignation,  39. 

Revelation.     See  Inspiration. 

Revivals,  Chap.  XIV,  57,  69,  77, 
164/.,  172,  360/.;  contagion  in, 
187  /.;  defects  of,  188  /.,  195,  372, 
433  /•>'  early,  176;  future  of,  191  /.; 
Great  Awakening,  176-179;  Ken- 
tucky, 179-182,  433;  Moody, 
183  /.;  of  1832,  182,  433  /.;  of 
1857,  183;    Welsh,  184/. 

Salem,  Witchcraft  in,  95  /. 

Science  and  religion,  5,  6,  8,  307. 

Self-denial,  122  ft.,  280. 

Self-surrender,  29,  243  /.,  361. 

Self,  the  divided,  241  ft. 

Seminaries,  theological,  7  /. 

Sex,  Chap.  XX,  393;  denomina- 
tionalism  and,  298  ft.;  explanation 
of  differences  of,  291-295;  psy- 
chological differences  of,  285-288; 
religious  differences  of,  288-291, 
294  /.,  295-298. 

Sexuality,  Chap.  XXIX,  124,  291; 
adolescence  and,  427-432;  evi- 
dence of,  420;  in  early  church, 
420/.;  pathology  and,  422  #.; 
religion  and,  424  ft.;  revivals  and, 
433  ft- 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS 


497 


Shrines,  204  /.;   Lourdes,  205  /.;  St. 

Anne  de  Beaupre,  205  /. 
Sin,  sense  of,  239  ff. 
Sleep,  17. 

Sleeping  preachers,  58  /. 
Solipsism,  324. 
Solitude,    124,    133-137;    value   of, 

135 /• 
Spiritism.     See  Immortality. 
Spiritual  marriage,  434-444. 
Stigmata  diaboli,  101  /. 
Stigmatization,    Chap.    VIII,    cases 

of,   79-83,  85  /.,  86;    degrees  of, 

84/. 
Subconsciousness,  14  ff-,  36,  47,  69, 

73,  150, 209  /.,  254-259,  335, 345  /•, 

35i /•>  355.  363 /• 
Sublime,  378  ff. 
Suggestion,  226  ff.,  293  /. 
Suggestive  therapeutics.      See  Faith 

Cure. 
Suicide,  98. 
Sunday  observance,  396  /. 

Tarantism,  159  /. 
Temperament,  20,  35,  66,  389. 
Tongues,  gift  of.    See  Glossolalia. 


Torture,  40/.,  81,  97/.,  137-142. 
Transfiguration,  143  /. 

Union  with  God,  23,  25,  27  /. 

Visions,  Chap.  VI,  38,  168;  char- 
acteristics of,  66  ff.;  contents  of, 
62-66;   in  the  Old  Testament,  60. 

Volition.     See  Will. 

Welsh  Revival,  184  /. 

Will,  Chap.  XXV,  245,  252  /.,  287, 
305;  factors  of,  366  /.;  freedom 
of,  3°7  #•/  primacy  of,  358  /.; 
shattered,  363. 

Witchcraft,  Chap.  IX,  160/.;  cases 
of,  92  /.,  97  /.;  characteristics  of, 
91;  decline  of,  102/.;  evidence 
for,  93-101;  fraud  in,  94;  power 
of,  90  /. 

Witchfinders,  99. 

Women  and  monastic  life,  144;  and 
celibacy,  446-450;  characteris- 
tics of.     See  Sex. 

Worship,  Chap.  XXVII,  see  also 
Prayer,  Denominationalism;  early 
387  /.;  factors  of,  394  ff.;  value  of, 
395- 


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